The short fiction of j hardy carroll
Akunna stared at the laptop. It was a good one, a Dell he’d gotten from the Kenyan. He thumbed his phrasebook, scratched his head. “Come give me your opinion,” he said to Chimaobi. “I know you will be surprised at the tone of my letter to you, as I wish to send you greetings and tell you…
maybe I got older when I saw something. I got older by something I saw all of a sudden and maybe I might be able to get younger too The Daily Post
Jolly Mrs. Benbow, arms a-jiggle as she lifts the cup to her lips, tilting the saucer to show the maker’s mark SPODE on its bottom. Her great-grandmother’s cup, she will invariably remind anyone in earshot. To her left is Mrs. Wright, the eldest and most severe. Her only vice is the single slice of lemon she…
The Lodge packed us a wonderful lunch of fried chicken, biscuits, and pie in an old-fashioned wicker basket complete with plates and silverware. We’d driven the station wagon to a secluded spot and hiked to a spreading oak at the base of a rocky bluff. I spread the red-and-white checkered cloth on the ground, leery…
the window is the window the glass, the same the wall, the same the same old house looks out on the sea, never the same, not for a moment neither the air nor the water. when I close my eyes to look out the window the sea takes everything: my lungs, my hair,…
Janus liked quoting Captain Kirk at the start of a climb. Gentlemen, risk is our business. It was funny the first time or two, but like most of the aspects of his personality, it ended up grating on you. After a couple years, I was the only one left who would still belay him. I suppose I felt…
“Marsh Harbor will take you in his runabout, sir.” The skinny boy looked no more than twelve, and made younger by the eagerness of expression. “I don’t want to be a bother,” I said. “I am an excellent driver, sir,” said the boy. “The best on the Cay.” The car was a right-hand drive Austin…
my grandfather rode up on his motorcycle and tossed me a wrapped canvas toolkit in my dream. Greasy wrenches screwdrivers so old the walnut handles looked like rocks. He knew I was in trouble had been a long time all my old friends had turned against me for reasons of their own and I had…
“Oh dear,” she said as she peered into the garden. “There seem to be more of them.” He joined her at the window. “Hell and death. When the devil did he do that?” Her cup ratted against the china saucer. She steadied it with her free hand. “I don’t know. Perhaps he goes and builds…
He was a regular, driving in from Hardyston for a Saturday haircut once a month. I remember him coming into the shop that first day. I got a good look at him while I cut his hair. His expression was strange. Haunted, I’d call it. Something about his eyes. He said it was a shortcut, but one…