Tag: short story

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Watching the Box

The idiot box sits, in an oaken cabinet, in the far corner of the spacious room, a testament to the generation of distance that placed it in such a precise spot. Opposite the behemoth sits a man of indeterminate age, in a worn leather reclining chair that has outlived the TV by several years. For … Continue reading Watching the Box

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@ Spanky’s Pub

She often came into the bar around nine thirty, give or take a few minutes, dressed to the nines in stiletto heels, some type of short, form-hugging skirt, and a barely there blouse. It was almost like she shopped exclusively at Victoria’s Secret, which was just fine by me. I would usually be seated at … Continue reading @ Spanky’s Pub

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A Philatelist in Philadelphia

Mr. Henry Cheeks loves stamps. They are his life. He collects old ones, new ones, special edition ones, ones of Elvis, torn ones, ripped ones, laminated ones (which he laminates himself) and ones that are only good for postage in Czechoslovakia. Mr. Henry Cheeks lives in Philadelphia, Missouri. Most people think that the only Philadelphia … Continue reading A Philatelist in Philadelphia

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Street Kings

I used to stroll the streets with a jaunty flair, slide stepping past storefronts and barber shops, hands in pockets, denim lined with a smoother texture. Feet encased in ratty sneakers, scuffed and worn thin. Passing public buses full of people going to and from school, work and the street corners. Yes, the street corner … Continue reading Street Kings