Tone Poem, a rip and read, and a Flash Fiction
The golf hustler ghosted during the high heat of 83. His fiancé, having handed over some folding money, moved me...
Now when Mark the bartender, bought off the bet for five hundred dollars, the others knew, no matter what, that I had won. Here’s how it worked. After five innings the Cubs were down to the Cardinals, 11 runs to zip. That’s when I asked for ten to one odds...
In rare metals this time, and one point two billon into his forth fortune, “Bankrupt” Bill Bingham was fixing to...
Friday, after work hours, I met his blonde at Bromide. She parked herself in the bar stool next to me. She ordered my kind of bourbon. Neat. Her attire was rich. She smelled savory. She had a sweet smile. She slid the envelope into my space. Its shape and weight...
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