The short fiction of j hardy carroll
The palm trunk against the boy’s back, the fronds above rattling in the wind as he watches the surf hiss across the sand, retreat, return. He thinks again of the legend. A bench in Bagdad, two men sitting side by side, one old, one as young as himself. The boy is a porter, dressed in…
The night before D-Day, Ilya says a prayer
“So you’ve come home, then.” He’s not changed in the slightest as he stands behind the bar in the selfsame dimness common to all my memories of this place, this very place, my home. But a shaft of pale sunlight catches the side of his face and I can see that yes, he has changed,…
Xiang kept his eyes on the armored carrier, not wanting to crash into it. It did not have taillights and the oversized tires threw immense amounts of dust into the air. A collision would be more than disastrous. He risked a glance in the rear-view to check on the minister and the general. Both were…
Rene gripped the strap of his new sea-bag as he gazed up at the ship. It was bigger than any building he’d seen, a towering wall of riveted steel. Uncle Juní came up behind and put his hand on his shoulder. “You excited?” “Sure.” “Scared?” Rene shook his head. His uncle laughed. “You’re a better…
My boots feel like they weigh ten pounds. I’m breathing hard, but it still feels like I’m suffocating. Numb fatigue soaks through me as though I am a teabag, limp and dripping. I look up and watch the column snake their way up and up. Always up. The peak is sometimes visible through the mists.…
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…
“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?”…
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…
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…