The short fiction of j hardy carroll
She’d been awake for a long time when the knock came. “Come in,” she called. “I’m sorry to wake you, ma’am. We haven’t yet set a schedule––” “Please. Stop. No apologies.” She threw back the covers and stood, surveying the room as the orderly opened the curtains to let the January sunlight spill through the…
They will not trouble him here. This has become his place. He will tell no one about it.
You have of course heard of the Koh-i-Noor, the famous Mountain of Light. It is said this diamond was carried through history on a torrent of men’s blood, and that any male who possesses it will add his own to the river. Legend tells us the stone was mined from Galconda by King Alauddin Khalji. Babur the…
“Who is that man in all the pictures, Mama?” “He was your grandfather.” She grips her purse. “My father.” “Your daddy?” “Not exactly. He was with my mother for a while, when she was young.” “Did I ever meet him?” “No. He died before you were born.” “But you knew him.” “A little. He wasn’t…
May 24th After thirty-six hours on deck, I set the drag anchor and turned in below. Worst mistake of my life. The storm drove me onto something in the dark, an uncharted reef or maybe a shipwreck. Whatever it was, it tore a three-foot gash in the starboard hull. I set the pump working and…
Mrs. Stouffer fussed around the dessert table with shakers of Christmas glitter-candy, liberally dusting everything in sight with red and green sparkles–– a chafing dish of cheese blintzes, an apple tart, Mrs. Glück’s “famous” chocolate torte. Finally, the glitter ran out. “Thank God,” muttered Mrs. Dogsbill. “That table looks like a kindergarten art room.” “She…
The old smuggler hoisted the xahako and arced a hissing stream of wine from the goatskin into his open mouth without a wasted drop. Whether this was a display of skill or frugality was hard to say; he was said to have ample amounts of both qualities. He wiped his beard with his hand and smiled. “You,…
I swore as I walked in that this would be the last time. I’d sworn this before, of course. Last year. But it had not been the last time, nor even close. But last year we were still getting away with it. Neither his wife nor my husband had any idea. Well, maybe an idea,…
That shop? Well, now. I tell you a story. Chinleyuego Aboagyem was born without eyes. A curse to his parents, though they loved him. The young boy perfectly remembered everything he heard. By the age of five, he could speak as well as any adult in English, Akan, Dagaare, Twe, and Ewe. After a single hearing…
He was thin, the black coat so stiff it might have been snipped from tin. Wiry like her uncles, but with bright bird eyes. He stood staring at the clocks, always coming back to her favorite, the one with all the faces and figures. “How long you say it took to carve?” the man asked…