I’d been standing in the midst of the mess on McQuillan Street, standing in Glenn Allan’s living room staring at his corpse, staring at the duffle. And in that nightmarish, swimmy, drunken moment I’d discarded caution and grabbed the handles. I’d scanned the room, turned, and left the house. Again, the image track faded. I […]
Fiction: Cheri Coke: Section Eight by James C. Stewart
I went over the exchange while driving home. They obviously didn’t have anything, or I would have been arrested. Even if—and it was a considerable if— the witness (‘Snooper’s Society’ caused me to chuckle upon reflection) was able to describe the person in the truck, so what? What did they really have? A dark-haired individual […]
Fiction: Cheri Coke: Section Seven by James C. Stewart
I wasn’t. Without a word, I fled for the washroom. I regurgitated what little was in me into one of Yesterday’s toilets, then dry-heaved for a minute that felt like a lifetime. I splashed cold water on my face for the second time and ran wet hands through my hair. I met my own dark-circled […]
Fiction: Cheri Coke: Section Six by James C. Stewart
The statement echoed—as did the realization this would be the natural assumption, even if the news wasn’t reporting a seizure of cash. Hell, for all I knew, those in the shadows might even think a cop (or cops) had stolen the cash, hence no mention of it in the news. The dread eased back a […]