The short fiction of j hardy carroll
He is like the landscape, ancient, fissured, desiccated. He is the last one left who saw it with his own eyes. His voice scrapes like wind through dry branches as he tells the story he repeated all his life. “When the Turks came, all of us ran to the mountain. We rolled stones down the…
Blydig Gryyfth had black hair and eyes dark as rotting plums. As he grew older, his limbs bunched with muscle though he did not grow taller. He hated the forest, hated the trees and the sky itself. His chief amusement was staring, which could do forever. He never smiled, never laughed. In fact, he barely spoke…
Dick climbed into the back seat of the Mercedes. “Slide over, Patty,” he said. “Where’s Premier Chou?” Pat asked. “He’s coming along in the other car,” Dick said, chafing his hands together. “Goddamn, it’s cold here. Never thought of China as being cold.” “Well,” said Pat, “they seem awfully fond of those fur hats.” He…
Jepp was finishing his second cup of coffee when the two slaves arrived at the shop. Both were dressed so well Jepp guessed they had raided their masters’ closets for the occasion. “You are sadly late,” said Jepp as they sat. “Unavoidable,” said the man Jepp knew as Omar. “What is the password?” demanded the other…
“That’s him, there.” Banker gestured at the giant sitting across the barracks. “Christ,” said Crowley. “He’s immense.” “That’s why they made him a scourger, cob,” smiled Banker. “Strong as a bull. I saw him give a hundred to a shirker not two months ago. You could see the poor bastard’s backbone before he reached thirty.”…
Akunna stared at the laptop. It was a good one, a Dell he’d gotten from the Kenyan. He thumbed his phrasebook, scratched his head. “Come give me your opinion,” he said to Chimaobi. “I know you will be surprised at the tone of my letter to you, as I wish to send you greetings and tell you…
The Lodge packed us a wonderful lunch of fried chicken, biscuits, and pie in an old-fashioned wicker basket complete with plates and silverware. We’d driven the station wagon to a secluded spot and hiked to a spreading oak at the base of a rocky bluff. I spread the red-and-white checkered cloth on the ground, leery…
“Marsh Harbor will take you in his runabout, sir.” The skinny boy looked no more than twelve, and made younger by the eagerness of expression. “I don’t want to be a bother,” I said. “I am an excellent driver, sir,” said the boy. “The best on the Cay.” The car was a right-hand drive Austin…
Poke leaned hard in the saddle. I could see his face was chalk-white underneath the beard and sunburn. “You don’t look so good, pard,” I said. “Don’t feel so good, neither. That goddamn bitch with the scattergun.” “You can’t say I didn’t warn you. You had plenty of time to shoot her.” Poke looked annoyed,…
Love in Terni, Italy