The short fiction of j hardy carroll
She hadn’t anticipated the cold. She knew this wasn’t supposed to be comfortable, not that there were many stories about how it was supposed to be, but comfort was really the last thing you could expect, at least while you were actually doing it. Even pills would make you nauseated. Her original plan was to…
The only residents remaining in the small town of Miners Hill are spirits. They were always there, though I was the only one to see them, much less communicate. My grandmother told me it was a gift. Experience has shown me it’s the opposite. Spirits are everywhere, as anyone who sees them will tell you.…
“It looks nice in our yard.” “It wasn’t supposed to look nice. That wasn’t the point.” “What was the point again?” “I wanted to shake them up. Make a statement. You know.” “So you made a dinosaur. Out of garbage.” “Not garbage. Scrap.” “Whatever. You’re surprised they had a bad reaction?” “I thought that—” “You thought…
Ten in the morning I find Patsy sitting at the end of the bar. His missus left last week, gone in the night without a word. Patsy said there was a note, something about visiting her sister. She had no sister I ever heard of. Patsy was Dad’s friend. When I see him now it…
He spoke of tremendous mysteries buried in numbers. “Right under your nose,” he would say. He’d spend an hour on the symbolism etched into the dollar, fill a notepad with calculations of its hidden meanings. He counted everything. Once I found him in the yard counting the needles on a pine tree, convinced the numbers…
He stood there like a fool, banging the big brass knocker. No answer. He was about to leave. It was in his mind. Get in the car. Back out of the driveway. Never come back. Fuck this. But she came to the door, stood wordless for a moment before turning her back to him, walked…
She kept right on sweeping, just like it was nothing. Me, I had a harder time. I looked out over where the barn had been, at the orange surveyors’ stakes in the ground. Without meaning to, I let out a long sigh. “People got to live somewhere, Walt,” she said. “Had to happen sometime. Besides,…
“Look at that. A rainbow.” She touched his shoulder. He shrugged it away. “So fucking what. Who do you think you are? Noah?” “I’m just saying that it’s not all bad.” “Oh yeah. Easy for you to say.” He stormed off across the asphalt, fists balled in fury. He got to the car and went…
September 27th, 1998 I pulled up in front of the building. This black guy in a beret and an open shirt leaned toward the car and asked if he could borrow a gas can. I had none and said so. He asked if he could ask me something. He fumbled with a cellular phone and began…
Tell us again about the voices. Nothing. I mean, you heard what I said about them. Yes, but we didn’t understand. Perhaps you can clarify? For example, how many are there? Four, five. I don’t know. Male? Female? I don’t know. It’s hard to say. They’re always talking. They never stop talking. Are they…