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Doing God’s Work by Wayne Scheer

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“God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;” — William Cowper

Eli and Vernon Browbridge rolled The Fat Man’s bloated body from the trunk of their 1987 Pontiac Grand Prix into the hole in the ground they had just dug.

Eli spoke first. “I wonder if a dead fat guy smells worse than a thin broad that’s been roasting in a hot car trunk?” He grabbed a dirty handkerchief from his back pocket, blew his nose and wiped the sweat from his face. Dirt and snot streaked his cheek.

“You got me,” Vernon replied.… Read the rest

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Murderous Lies by Peter DiChellis

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Sometimes, there’s no plan at all. Only improvisation.

I remember everything about that night: the truth, the terror, the luck, and the lies. Someday I want to forget.

As always, Larry’s Tavern was dark and dank as a moldy cellar. A woman sitting at one end of the bar had hiccups. A leathery, trailer park grandma in a frizzy red sweater, she kept herself company with big gulps of bourbon and ginger ale. A stocky boomer guy slumped at the other end of the bar, wearing a gaudy blue golf shirt with a shiny brown sport coat.… Read the rest

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House Cleaning by Ian Creasey

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It’s magical when kids help out around the house.

There was a dead mouse in Mum’s bedroom.

Simon gently pushed the door open and crept in. He smelled his mother’s perfume, almost overwhelmed by the odour of sweat and cigarettes and sour alcohol. A ray of morning sunlight shone through the curtains like a spotlight, illuminating a snoring shape under the covers. Simon was always surprised by how small Matt looked when he wasn’t shouting. His feet didn’t even reach the end of the bed, but fell short by—well, a foot.

Navigating the minefield of socks and cigarette papers and empty glasses, Simon stole round the bed to the other side.… Read the rest

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Sirens by Gary Cahill

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True love is hard to find.

The stroll from sidewalk to shoreline was longer than ever, formidable on a given day, crossing the rare beach in Jersey getting wider every year, erosion from the north dumping more white powder to the south and pushing water’s edge further into the Atlantic. But his trek was languorous, lilting, a relief after what he’d left by the street, in the motel shadows.

He’d been sprayed back on the pavement–must have been the beer, right?, nothing more–warm, salty, like the water here in dead summer, but tinged with a whiff of metal, like chewing a penny, got the nose twitching.… Read the rest

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The Ring by Aislinn Batstone

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Things have a funny way of working out – for some people, anyway.

Elliot didn’t know what had made him stop in at the pawnbroker’s on his way home from work that Tuesday evening. Perhaps simply the fact that it was so close to his apartment, just across the street behind his building. He certainly hadn’t anticipated buying Olivia’s engagement ring from a pawnbroker, but once the fellow in the shop had shown him the ring he simply had to have it.

Olivia wouldn’t care where the ring came from. She loved him, and he wasn’t from a rich family. He rearranged his accounts and on Saturday stepped out into the sweltering summer morning with a bank cheque for twenty thousand dollars in his wallet.… Read the rest

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