Dial M for… by Bruce Harris
Sy Foreman sat on a round, unpadded cushion at the Borough Diner. “I can’t believe it,” he said into his phone. “First time I’ve ever done that. I must have left it in the house.” After a brief pause, he said, “My knife, what else?” One seat away at the counter, Detective Doulas Fisher cut […]
Organized Crime by Bruce Harris
“There’s a gun pointed at your crotch. Unless you want to take your next piss with the help of a catheter, I recommend you take a brisk walk away and disappear into the restroom…” Jackie squinted at the guard’s name tag, “…C. Smith. What does the C stand for?” The unarmed mall security guard stationed […]
If You See Something by Bruce Harris
The message was on a continuous loop, repeated every 15 minutes. Something about never leaving suitcases unattended, keeping suitcases in your possession at all times, and a caution about accepting bags from strangers. The message mercifully ended with, “If you see something, say something.” Sam sat at gate 14 in Newark International Airport waiting to […]
Signs by Bruce Harris
30 MINUTE PARKING STRICTLY ENFORCED – 24 HOURS VIOLATORS WILL BE TOWED I’d be 20-minutes. Tops. I parked the Chevy in the heavily wooded narrow street and dashed into the lobby and up three flights of stairs into my son’s new apartment. After helping him navigate a couple of medical insurance forms, I was […]
No by Bruce Harris
“Nicky, stop it. I’m not your kid sister any more. I know you love me and want what’s best for me. Look at me. I’m a grown woman and I’m more than capable of making my own decisions.” “But, I don’t trust that asshole Maurice…” *** Denny and Lenny were twins. Not identical. Both shopped […]
Misfortune Cookie by Bruce Harris
Ralph got a kick out of the costumes and revelers celebrating the Chinese New Year. It was January 2012. He played with the fortune cookie in his jacket pocket. His crooked smile evaporated. Fat Hungs was crowded, always was. Ralph sat in a back table adjacent to the swinging kitchen doors.
Tina by Bruce Harris
Scott Edwards sopped the remaining yolk with whole-wheat toast and peered at the early edition sports pages. It was a few minutes after 5:00am. Every morning at this hour, seven days a week, he was the only patron at The Sunrise Diner. Not this morning. He was about to call for a coffee refill, when he noticed a man in a wheelchair parked at the end of his booth. The man didn’t take his eyes off Edwards.
“Can I help you?” Edwards asked, regaining his composure and craning his neck for his favorite waitress, Diane.
The wheelchair-bound man was strapped in by a seat belt. He maneuvered himself next to Edwards. “It was too early to shave. I don’t usually go out without shaving. I’m sorry for my unkempt appearance. You’re Scott Edwards, yes?”
Edwards glared at the man. “Yes.”
“Chairman of the Society for Wheelchair Advocacy?”
About Face by Bruce Harris
Two cops go into a liquor store. No joke.
A punk named Freeman checked his brain at the door. He never intended to hurt anyone the day he entered A&J Liquor Mart. His gun was plastic. Within seconds, the whacky cashier pulled his own gun, no toy, and fired at Freeman. His untrained hand missed badly. The slug came to rest in Officer Turlington’s junk. Family jewels splattered over the black and white tiles. Then the stupid jerk of a clerk fainted. Freeman cleaned out the till then walked over to the bloodied officer and took the cop’s gun.
C-Word by Bruce Harris
I watched… my father mount the Purple Heart awarded him on our den wall. dad struggle with his left eye, the right remained in a paddy field thousands of miles away. as my hero fulfilled a dream of owning a business, Arrow Gas and Lube, a neighborhood service station that was as big a part […]
Oh, Brother! by Bruce Harris
Dan Byrne received the news during a poker game at The Round-Up. He turned his upper body around, empty beer mug raised in his right about to scream across the noisy saloon for a refill when he noticed Sheriff Beckley bearing down on him. The lawman’s look said trouble. “See you a minute, Dan?” his […]
Slugger by Bruce Harris
Before he was Hank Sr., he was a sandlot sensation at third base. Scouts for the Brooklyn Dodgers and nearly every other team coveted him. Hank Wells, eldest of 6 sons from Flatbush was the talk of New York when he finally signed with Brooklyn. “When are Dem Bums bringin’ up Hank? What’re they waitin’ […]
Six O’Clock Draw by Bruce Harris
Daisy Bateman, her face half covered with a scarf, entered Parker’s General Store. She purposefully came into town on this morning because she knew it was Peter Hutchins’s day off. The last thing she wanted was to see Peter. The thought of it brought shivers. Daisy’s plan was to pick up a new coffee pot […]