“Fallen Angels” was published in Ember: a journal of luminous things vol. 1 issue 1 on May 31, 2015
“Fallen Angels” opening paragraphs
“It’s a bad luck sky.” Lizbeth’s mom pointed a finger at the first shooting star of the evening. She made the sign of the cross—Catholic style, even though she was a Baptist.
“Stars cast out of heaven like fallen angles. Bad times are on the way.” Mom said the same thing every August when the meteor shower came. Sometimes she was right, like when the Germans invaded Poland. Sometimes she was wrong, like when the family cow gave birth to twin claves. Sometimes she was half-way-wrong, like when the neighbor boy, Tommy Hotabee, came back from the war last fall—crippled but still alive.
Lizbeth helped her dad carry wooden lawn chairs from their front porch into the yard. She lined them in a row like the seats in the Orpheum Theater in Idabel, four pine chairs painted white so they stood out like ghosts. One for mom, one for dad, one for Lizzy, and one for Tommy, who looked like he’d fall over if he didn’t sit down pretty soon.
You can buy Ember: a journal of luminous things here.
And on Amazon soon.
“Sassafras” was first published in the trade paperback and ebook, Shadow Masters, Imajin Books, May, 2013. It was subsequently published I Pure Fantasy and Sci-Fi vol. 3 on March 27, 2015.
“Sassafras” opening paragraphs:
Smell is the simplest sense. Awareness enters through the nose without an invitation, an unwelcome guest with a master key. An injured brain needs only a few molecules to remember everything there is to know about disinfectant, urine and adhesive tape.
Sound comes next: distant conversations, wheels with bad bearings, compressed air hissing at regular intervals. Fifteen times a minute, but who’s counting.
Then vision. Two of everything—separate images that won’t come together without a struggle. The first thing is acoustic tile on a ceiling a thousand miles away. Then a pair of faces merging into one. A man I recognize but don’t remember. A lover? A brother? Something else entirely?
You can find Shadow Masters on Imajin Books website, here.
or on Amazon, here.
You can buy Pure Fantasy and Sci-Fi vol. 3 here.
“Unk” was first published in Disturbed Digest, issue 1, Alban Lake Press, June, 2013. It was subsequently published as a reprint by A Murder of Storytellers in Beyond the Nightlight in December, 2014.
“Unk” opening paragraphs:
The Oklahoma City Family Medicine Center might not be a good place to meet guys, but I see a really hot one the moment I walk out the door. Good looking. Tall and dark. Native American. He’s just my type, so I check my watch and pretend I haven’t been inside for anything important.
He likes my hair. Who can blame him? I spent a lot of time mixing in the eight long, thin, highlighted braids with tiny glass beads whipped at the ends. I toss my head so he won’t notice if my smile is a little crooked. It probably is because my lower lip is partly numb. Doctor Martha Singleton says the feeling might come back in time. Continue reading
“I 35” was published in Phoenix Photo & Fiction vol. 1, December, 2014. http://waxpoetryart.com/phoenix/issues/001/johnbiggs.html
“I 35” Opening paragraphs:
“Them red ants are the worst. There’s millions of them, like the Red Army that gobbled up half of Europe back in the war.” Dad pointed his pipe stem at the line of ants marching through my my green plastic soldiers, looking for bits of Lorna Doone cookie I dropped on the World War II battlefield in our living room.
Baby Doll growled at them from a distance. She barked when I pinched a commie ant between my thumb and finger and dropped her on her comrades. They tore the body into thirds and carried them away. Continue reading
I wrote a little story entitled, “I 35” mostly in my head on my way to visit my sister in law in Bisbee, Arizona. By the time I got there I had the plot worked out, a couple of catchy lines and knew all there was to know about the characters. It was pretty easy. The story actually happened almost like I planned to tell it in the living room of my 1950’s childhood home. Continue reading
“Manning Up” was published in Chupa Cabra House’s Small Town Futures in October, 2014.
“Manning Up” Opening paragraphs:
Before the trouble started there were lots of different bars in Oklahoma City—Indian bars, gay bars, hillbilly bars. Not anymore. Since the power grid went down, and the New Flu came to town, everybody gets drunk together. Lesbians like me stand next to red necks in dark rooms lit by kerosene lamps and tell the barkeep, “Do it again.” Not exactly social drinking.
The good old boys trade jokes about bulldykes and farmer’s daughters. They bump into me and say, “Excuse me buddy.”
When I come out of the restroom somebody shouts, “Hey mister, you went in the wrong one.” Everybody laughs except for me and my girlfriend Mona. Continue reading