Old man Poppy potters and comes back across the room with a coffee pot and a pair of mismatched cups. “Still don’t know why anyone would care about them old days, Mr White.” “The readers care, Mr Poppy. With men like John Dillinger running around there’s been a real resurgence of interest in the outlaw […]
They lounge at bus stops beneath palm trees – waiting. They stand in the doorways of shops that contain no goods and wait for banks to open to receive money from other places. They sit on benches, linger on street corners and while their time away walking all the time waiting, waiting for their lives […]
Christmas time always sets me to thinking about Boston and the house I had grew up in. I stood in the doorway of my cabin and looked out at the snow that had already lain on the mountain. It reflected the sun and made for a bright morning. The pine trees made me think of […]
When consciousness returned to Gatlin he found the skin of his face tight from the harsh sun beating down on him. He was tied to a thick wooden post that had been driven into the sun baked dirt outside of the monastery wall while the other prisoners sat around his feet in chains. The older […]
The rider was tall and sat, high in the saddle on his Palomino; he was tanned by the southern sun but his eyes were light, he wore a planters hat with a white shirt and tan riding breeches, a pistol was belted at his waist and a pair sat in scabbards ahead of the saddle. […]
Danny the fence sat a corner table with a treble Bushmills and an untouched pint of Guinness. His dark suit jacket hung on the back of his chair and his black tie was half undone like the noose of a lazy hangman. Danny downed the Bushmills and signalled to Ken behind the bar. Ken brought […]
