The short fiction of j hardy carroll
I want to reach back to that San Francisco rowhouse, talk to that long-haired kid whose only goal was to get a real Les Paul and open for the Airplane or Moby Grape. I want to tell him to pay attention, to enjoy the small moments as much as the large ones. The summer tour…
The longhouse was warm and smoky and the blizzard howled outside. A spitted loin of venison dripped grease into the hissing fire as Massasoit squatted and smoked his new pipe, a gift from the Williams who now sat across from him, draped in a bearskin and shivering uncontrollably. The Williams was one of the few…
I walked out of the Sheraton Waikiki half-drunk, the warm air heavy with the smell of sea and flowers and grilled food. Kalakaua Avenue was jammed with thousands of Japanese tourists, most of them a full head shorter than I. I drifted against the crowd as the sky above us turned a sudden purple, vivid…
Xiang kept his eyes on the armored carrier, not wanting to crash into it. It did not have taillights and the oversized tires threw immense amounts of dust into the air. A collision would be more than disastrous. He risked a glance in the rear-view to check on the minister and the general. Both were…
The dump entrance was chained shut. Cringle swore and smacked the steering wheel. “I am so sick of this pandemic shit.” “So now what?” “This is what. ” He popped the truck into reverse, spattering dirt and gravel against the city’s CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE sign. He slammed the shifter to drive and fishtailed up…
Gino walks through the dining room, smoothing tablecloths, straightening chairs, lining up silverware. He picks up a wineglass and holds it to the light. Spotless. In fact, the entire place is spotless, the staff having stayed late to make sure their restaurant will be at its best for this, its last day. Gino walks to…
My boots feel like they weigh ten pounds. I’m breathing hard, but it still feels like I’m suffocating. Numb fatigue soaks through me as though I am a teabag, limp and dripping. I look up and watch the column snake their way up and up. Always up. The peak is sometimes visible through the mists.…
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” “You kidding? My curiosity is killing me.” “I just thought that after what he did. To you, I mean.” “And a whole lot of other women. Yeah, well. I’m over it. Getting over it, anyway. Maybe this will help.” “The detective told me that nobody’s been in here since he…
Dubreiel slouched in the shade of a roadside tree, his despair and pain intolerable. The wound in his foot ached horribly, and for a moment he regretted casting his pistol into the pond the previous night. I could have at least shot myself, he thought. But the warm May breezes were heavy with the scent…
He used to come up here after school or whatever he does during the day. Anyways, I let him feed the pigeons. He don’t say much, but I seen him smile when the blue dragoon eat out of his hand. I says to him that it’s unusual for a bird to do that with somebody…