The short fiction of j hardy carroll
Tsou-Tahi burns with shame. A simple task usually relegated to women, the gathering of medicine herbs. But even at this Tsou-Tahi fails. Time and again he returns to Yatoyenh with an empty sack. The old man shakes his head and retraces Tsou-Tahi’s trail, always finding the plants with ludicrous ease. This time he shows Tsou-Tahi his…
Civilians thought of Green Berets as Army Special Forces. It was more complicated than that. Our orders came from the Agency or the President. Our activities were top secret. Even General Westmoreland had no idea of what we did or who we were. And of course, we weren’t supposed to be in Cambodia at all.…
She sat cradling her mug of tea. From time to time she would lower her face to it, close her eyes and inhale the fragrant steam. This was the tenth night in a row she had awakened screaming at precisely 2:10 am, the tenth morning after she had lain awake with the visions she would…
In January 1946, Corporal Stuart Dulley was discharged from the United States Marine Corps in which he had served since September 1940. His wounded arm had healed as much as it was going to, which wasn’t much. Other men at the hospital were aching to get back to something. Wives, jobs, hometowns. Stuart’s parents had…
I know you cannot speak. Trust me. This is for the best. Perhaps you have heard the stories. That I cut their tongues out and ate them, slit them like grain sacks and swallowed their innards like borscht. Or that I was in KGB and went about on the Moscow trains with the organs of…
“Where is my coffee?” “It’s right there in front of you, dear.” “Ah. Yes. So it is!” He lifted it to his lips and for a moment I could again see what he’d looked like as a little boy. “Oh, this is good. What is it again?” “It’s coffee, dear. Just as you like it.”…
He flicked on the light. The room had a musty, disused air about it. Stale air and dust, dull and windowless. “What is this place?” she asked. “It used to be a barrel house. Bootleggers would store their whiskey here until they could ship it upriver.” He pointed to a trap door in the floor.…
Ramón held his glass aloft. “A toast,” he shouted over the din of the crowd. “To San Sebastián!” “And his perforated testicles!’ roared Philippe. They clicked glasses and drained the fiery rum in one swallow. “Another!” Ramón yelled to the barman. All around them the crowd surged shoulder to shoulder, filling the bar and spilling…
The old man turned off the truck. The only sound was the Ford’s engine ticking as it cooled. “Well,” said Cole. “Guess I better get started.” “Guess you better,” said the old man. Cole opened the door and stepped onto the rocky ground. The old man got out and came around to stand next to…
“Red leader, rendezvous angels ten over grey beach.” Angels ten? Far too low. He had no intention of repeating yesterday’s disaster when ops sent them over Dunkirk at 10,000 feet. Three dozen Messerschmitts dove out from the sun and cut the squadron to ribbons. But arguing with ops was like kicking a rubber wall. “Red…