The short fiction of j hardy carroll
We have no name for the people who came before us. Some call them “The Builders;” others, “The Destroyers.” Stories told in ceremony and song, but no definitive history. There were many, many of them, and everywhere they went they marked the land with roads and bridges. Many of the elders ponder how they did…
“Where are you going, Tupac?” Marisól asked. “Out,” he said. “With whom?” She stepped in to block him from the door. The combination of her bulk and moral authority were impenetrable. He sighed. “With Carlitos and Nando.” “Always those boys with their spray paint and skateboards and slang.” “They’re good guys, Mamá. Carlitos is at…
“Should be a good turnout, Father. With the snow.” Father Loris squinted up through the window at the swirling flakes. A gust of wind rattled the glass. “Better add more water to the soup, then.” Sister Claire placed the bucket in the sink and turned the tap. “What I mean,” she shouted over the thundering…
“Explain it again,” she said, looking up at me with those pale green eyes unique to our family. “Please.” “The physician and the surgeon will make me comfortable first.” “How will they do that?” I smiled. “They have special physic. After this, they will take me into the operating theater where they will take out…
Murtaz clomped into the conservatory, bringing with him an unwelcome blast of frigid air that extinguished the candles and blew the pages of music all over the room. “For the love of God, close the door!” yelled Otar. “Sorry,” said Murtaz, pushing it shut. Otar struck a match and laboriously relit each of the ten…
The vigil over, I stood beneath the streetlight and thought of what I’d witnessed inside. Each of us weaves a net of our experience and gleaned information, of our opinions, our likes and dislikes. We cast this net throughout our world, trapping only that which the net will hold. Everything else slips through, and we,…
My grandfather started this cattle station back in the goldfield days. I was born here and lived my whole life here, excepting the war years when I was in Malaya. We have the devil’s own time keepin’ white ringers on the station. They start out all right, but none of them lasts a half-year. Most…
Captain Cheap had never been popular at the best of times, and as food ran short he was less so. Added to this was the fact that the injuries he’d sustained in the wreck left him barely able to walk. He spent his days sequestered in the one surviving tent with guards posted outside. The…
I was just getting her set up when Crabs come around to tell me I was wanted in the office. There was a new fella behind the desk, a kid. He told me Butler Amusements was taking me off the wheel and putting me on the kiddie-boats. There had been complaints, he said. I should…
It was early morning as I came round the barn and saw Calraigh’s Ford puttering up the hill. He’ll have news, then, I thought, and no more. Ciaran was in the barn tending our mutual friend, as we called the hostage. He wasn’t a bad sort, the Major. In Killylastin we’d be reared to hate the…