Short Stories

Jerusalem Stone

A man in mirrored sunglasses standing by his car called out to them at Jerusalem’s Lion Gate. “Excuse me ladies, you like tour of Mount of Olives?”

“How much?” Karly said.

“Two hundred, very reasonable. I show you all sights. Garden of Gethsemane, Tomb of the Virgin, Church of Mary Magdalene.” He might have been attractive if it weren’t for his bad teeth and a large mole on the right side of his face.

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Summer at Echo Lake

Imogene Hull waves the cigarette smoke away from her face and peers out the window. The first of the college girlies is arriving

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Fault Lines

Spencerville Road ran straight north from Highway 46, through a valley flanked by green, treeless hills. It was a narrow road, only wide enough for one car, and pocked with cracks and holes like the face of the moon.

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Voyage of the Tropical Queen

Dennis climbed into the passenger seat of the '49 pickup. The upholstery was torn, and a metal spring scratched his leg. "Nice wheels," he said.

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