Three Line Tales - A short story told in three sentences.
In a world where red state citizens are forced into a blue state world...
WE WEREN'T DONE yet. There was still the matter of Naia Khan. Naia was on the run. Chicago police picked her up at O'Hare airport, where she was about to board a British Airways flight to London. She was running. Interesting. Innocent people don't run. I went to Chicago with Detective Sidran to pick her... Continue Reading →
FATIMA'S BODY WAS found at 4:28 pm. She had been stuffed into a trunk and buried less than two feet under the patio. It was a nice trunk. Probably a little too nice. It was so nice that it kept out water and air. This meant Fatima's body hadn't decomposed the way it would have if... Continue Reading →
THE NEXT MORNING I scoured the bathroom for any signs of Fatima's murder. Not that I thought there would be. Three years and another family between then and now meant the bathroom's been cleaned a time or two. Still, you never know. Little things can get overlooked. I could get lucky. I wasn't. When my... Continue Reading →
THAT NIGHT I picked up some pizza on the way home. Good thing I did, too, because there was no dinner. I came home to find Gwen wandering through the house, chanting, and waving a bunch of incense around. "Gwenny? Baby? Whatcha doing?" I sat the pizza down and turned on the oven. "Just to let... Continue Reading →
I STOPPED BY Starbucks on the way back to the office, my mind on Ezekiel and our conversation. Nearly three years, and he was still hung up on her? That must have been some love. Not that I didn't understand. If Gwen ever left me, I'd lose it, too. As I pulled out of the... Continue Reading →
I CAUGHT UP with Ezekiel Erikson in the student commons. He was a good looking black kid sitting alone in a corner booth, his head buried in a book. When I got closer, I could see the title. C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain. "Are you Ezekiel Erikson?" I asked, even though I knew he... Continue Reading →