“Dempsey” by Shayne Youngblood
I am sitting in Row A, Seat 1, dressed in a double-breasted dark oxford gray suit, a plain white shirt, and a dark blue silk tie . . .
Tag: Noir Series
“Fish and Sand, Salton and Sea” by Joseph Mattson
We saw him running. Down, down. From the mountain, across tracks, across highway, State Route 111, Southern California, right there alongside the Salton Sea. Salton Sea. Why is it named so? . . .
“Overheated” by John Jeremiah
I was seventeen in 1965. The “Sally Bumps” gang hung out at Vinny’s Bar. Their main racket was stealing copper from the telephone company . . .
“Free Paint” by Aaron Fox-Lerner
When we weren’t shoplifting, me and Sach 72 would go to the Bay Ridge yard and jump kids for their paint . . .
“Anguilla Day Boat Race” by Trudy Nixon
The magnificent yacht followed the racing boats into the roughest part of the channel—where the Atlantic meets the Caribbean . . .
“On the House” by Seamus Scanlon
It was a rainy day in Galway. Nothing new—Galway and rain are synonymous, along with fog, mist, hailstones, slippery footpaths, pneumonia . . .
“Tu Mejor Amiga” by Carmen Jaramillo
I felt like God, even though I must’ve been the palest lady on Vía Argentina. I was one lone gringita standing outside a bar full of red lights and Don Omar music, watching people use the tens and twenties tucked in their fingers for cab fare or a bottle of rum to mix with Coca-Cola. I was just a dirt-broke chick who sprinted out of the States like a scalded rat, hoping I’d never see certain people again . . .
“Cranberry’s Last Dance” by Sean Gill
My rusted Pontiac bounced from pothole to pothole and swung into the factory lot. Another overcast day, all dirty snow and no sun. In Northeast Ohio, pessimism is the great common denominator—hoping for sunshine on a winter’s day is as fruitless as wishing upon a star, expecting a quiet lunch break, or rooting for the Browns . . .