The Serial Tattooist

The bartender set a beer and a shot in front of Darren Montgomery and said, “That’s it Big D. No more. I’m cutting you off after this.” Darren looked up with blurry eyes and said, “Come on Billy my boy. Can’t a guy have any fun anymore?” Except it came out as drunken gibberish, “ComonBilimabycnagyhanyfumamyor?”

Music On The Wind

George and Ida Ferguson, my great grandparents, were second generation cattle ranchers in eastern Montana. Mom kept a framed picture of them on the fireplace mantel when I was a kid. It was taken in their parlor and you can just make out a piano behind Ida with a vase of cut wild flowers on

The Theory of Relativity

This 75 word story was featured on Paragraph Planet on 6-17-19. The Theory of Relativity. Like rays of light bending we were drawn together across that coffee shop floor. Me making notes for the physics class I taught. You coming in for an espresso. I stood and asked you to join me. You said why

Kite Flying

The flat, treeless, chunk of land on the cliff outside the town of Granite, Minnesota was the best place around to fly kites. It was the size of a football field and me and Joey were flying ours that summer when we noticed a new kite soaring on the wind. A pink one that made

At The Clinic

The nervous looking man stood up, sat down, then went outside, sucked down a smoke, came back in and began pacing. From his chair on the other side of the clinic Larry watched, all the while wondering , what the hell’s the matter with that guy? When the vet’s assistant came out from the back,

In A Plastic Bag In A Shoe Box

The guy behind the counter of the Arapahoe County Sheriff’s department handed me a shoe box and said, ” Here you go, buddy. Here are your father’s remains.” Begrudgingly, I took them, not excited in the least to be doing this. I blame it all on Ancestry.com. Two weeks earlier Clayton Redding Jorgenson had died

Mr. Macaroon

This story was written based on the writing prompt, May 31, Macaroon Day. “Sorry to have to tell you this,” Doctor Jensen said, not looking all that sorry, “But you’ve got celiac sprue.” Celiac what? It sounded serious. “Am I going to die?” I asked, cutting to the chase along with starting to perspire. Heavily.