What can YOU say in six sentences?
The last thing I saw before I was blindfolded was that he had Clint Eastwood eyes.
His stern eyes on a leathery face bore through me—the last living image etched permanently on my retina-- then he spit tarry tobacco on my ear, and next I saw only dappled daylight through a burlap potato sack yanked over my head.…
ContinueAdded by Steve Wayne on April 29, 2011 at 10:00pm — 7 Comments
My invitation to the wedding of Kate and William got lost in the mail.
I'll watch it on TV, eating Pringles and downing Pabst, but all the while I'll be jiggling words in my head, six lines at a time.
The thought of six sentences--six lousy…
ContinueAdded by Steve Wayne on April 26, 2011 at 9:30pm — 9 Comments
Ever since I was a kid, I could judge a person by their smell. I mean, each and every person on the entire planet has their own odor, and when you get within…
ContinueAdded by Steve Wayne on April 24, 2011 at 2:08am — 3 Comments
A gust of wind hot as a blacksmiths bellows swept across the plain and onto the bluff and blew the man out of the high cave like an awakening beetle. The caves stone entry was low and tight, no higher than a grown mans knees, and Sonny slid out and used his hands on wasted thighs to stand upright and he looked across the plain and spotted twin coyotes atop the far ridgeline stalking unseen prey beyond. He pulled each suspender strap…
ContinueAdded by Steve Wayne on April 21, 2011 at 12:30am — 5 Comments
I used to hide in my parent’s closet and count my father’s belts when I was a kid.
He owned ten belts of all types and my favorite was a thin one with several rodeo riders stamped on it, each riding a different bucking bronco. He had a thicker one that was black and had a large silver buckle that read “Chicago FDP” and had flames.…
ContinueAdded by Steve Wayne on April 18, 2011 at 11:25am — 8 Comments
If you really want to hear about it and all, Phoebe helped me find out where the ducks in Central Park go in the winter.
She skipped down to the apartment building across from the park on Fifth Avenue, the one with those corny eagles on…
ContinueAdded by Steve Wayne on April 14, 2011 at 4:00pm — 2 Comments
Jeffers ran out a satchel of Town Criers in his dump truck on the way to the gravel pit and yelled, “You gonna deliva papers in dis storm, Maudie?” Maudie, across the street with curlers under a clear vinyl kerchief, snubbed out her smoke in a rusted can on her porch and hollered back, “You betchur sweet bippy.” …
ContinueAdded by Steve Wayne on April 14, 2011 at 12:00pm — 1 Comment
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