The short fiction of j hardy carroll
“Where did they go?” she asked again, her voice tight with ensuing panic. He shook his head. “Maybe they thought we got lost and decided to look for us.” “But we’ve only been gone a half hour.” Her eyes were wide as she scanned the empty desert rippling with heat. “I wish we’d brought water.”…
“The petroglyphs told the story of an unusual event.” He paused, staring out at the lecture hall through thick lenses, hands clasped behind his back. In his pinstripe cutaway and bow tie he resembled a vulture, the effect highlighted by gleam of the hall lights on his bald skull. “Anyone care to guess?” A tense…
“Delphine always wanted to pilot her father’s plane and when he forgot his keys on her tenth birthday, she knew that taking off would be easy.” Agnes smiled as she read, the notebook trembling slightly in her slim hands. “Another Delphine story? I thought you’d moved on.” I sipped my tea, grown cold in its cup.…
The Mayor and the town manager waved as their next victim approached. It was old Elke Svørtsenbørg, and she had her teeth in. She munched on their improbable whiteness while she made her way to the cake table. The Mayor smiled his best. “Our next victim,” he said in the unctuous tones familiar to all who…
“At first, it looked like an ordinary marble, but it was far from it.” He looked around the table, that familiar drunken glee in his eyes. I was sick of it. “Jesus, Ned. Just tell them already.” I had heard this particular gross-out story at least ten times. He always told it after five or…
Zeus was not having a good day and he made sure everyone knew it. Maybe it was the storm, or maybe it was that they had run out of dog food again and had given him cat food. It always upset his stomach and gave him the shits. Certain conditions Zeus regarded as more or…
“What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.” “What a crock.” I kicked the side of the treehouse. “It doesn’t even make sense.” Teddy tossed the book into the corner. “It’s full of that stuff. Maxims and shit. My aunt gave it to me when I was little.” “What are maxims?” He…
The only residents remaining in the small town of Miners Hill are spirits. They were always there, though I was the only one to see them, much less communicate. My grandmother told me it was a gift. Experience has shown me it’s the opposite. Spirits are everywhere, as anyone who sees them will tell you.…