The short fiction of j hardy carroll
“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…
God shows his irony by allowing me this beautiful place and all the time in the world. I have outlived my compatriots and peers, my lovers and wives, my children, and even my enemies, but this itself is no reward. Indeed, there are mornings when the floor of my sleeping chamber is slick with frost…
After the emergency broadcast, he got busy, talking the whole time. “My great-grandfather was a whaler,” he said as he slid a heavy-duty cable over the bollard, cranking the capstan to draw the hull tight against the fenders. “He wrote about rounding the horn down by the roaring forties.” He tightened down the hatch battens. …
“You sure he’s in there?” said Jeffus. He squinted at the cabin. “Don’t see no smoke from the chimbly.” The marshal slid another cartridge into his Henry, then ran his wipe along the brass side. “Warm night,” he said. “And appearances to the contrary, Happy Jack is nobody’s fool.” “So what you got in mind?”…
Saturday, September 26 The first of the leaves falling. It’s a month now since they took Molly to the hospital. I often catch myself unconsciously weeping. Wednesday, November 4 Frost came early this year. When the electricity is on I try to warm myself. There’s the gas range, but the ration box is late…
Cuandon had a good Saturday. He told me he’d run the airport scam twice, each time picking up the tourists by yelling the name of a hotel from the van window, then taking them up to the mountain shack until they paid the ransom which he calls a “travel fee.” I was down in the…
I couldn’t help but look at the calendar as the day approached. Three more days. Two more days. Though only ten, she felt it too. Only once did she ask me why she had to go, why she couldn’t live with me. The question floated over my sea of bitter resentment me like a scrap…
Father Arnaud hung his surplice on the teak peg and turned to face the bright-eyed visitor. “You were at Mass?” “Yes. I’ve been coming every Sunday for the past four weeks.” “Yet you did not take Communion.” “No. I’m not Catholic.” “Then why do you come to Mass?” The ancient priest gave his most winning…