Category: Short Stories

The Spirit and the Addict

……..and the rain was cold, driven by the wind howling through the dark, dirty alley, biting her skin, soaking her ill-fitting cloths.  The shallow doorway provided little protection as she huddled, cold, wet and fragile, pulling her knees tightly against her chest for a bit of warmth, but more so for that tenuous feeling of

The View

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.


The icy spray stung her face like a thousand wasps.  A thirty foot wall of water hovered over her ready to crush down like a boot on a bug.  She reefed the wheel hard to starboard and caught the up rise of a forming wave just in time to miss the downward crush of the