Short Stories

Short Stories

Before novels were invented, people had to read short stories. Of course, then they were just called stories, as longer-format stories had not yet been invented. Some of the short stories below appeared in my first two books, The Sum of Memory and Destination Okinawa. The others, well, who knows where they came from, but they’re here now, so you might as well read them.

Also, it should go without saying that these stories were written a long time ago, before I had learned pretty much anything about pretty much anything. They are included here as a warning to future writers.

Unpublished

Silvan’s Demon
It was the lamp on the corner of the desk, thought Silvan; the lamp was the one casting weird shadows on the stained oak, making each of the little pills look like exclamation points on longer gashes, black scratches on the hardwood.
Hurricane Lori
The thing I’ll remember most about Heather were her eyes. Her vacant, empty eyes. Staring at me like nothing in the world was wrong, like my questions were devoid of meaning and of answers. Hers was a face of impassivity and betrayal…
Once a Convict
They could call it freedom if they wanted to, but the truth of the matter was that they wouldn’t be undoing Pony’s cuffs until he had made his way through the gauntlet of barbed fencing and razor wire to the last guard shack on the perimeter fence.
The Litagent and Professor Kemp
Rain, for some reason, excited him. Perhaps it was the variance, the fact that no two storms were really alike. Sometimes it was a heavy downpour, other times nothing more than a light drizzle. The truth was that it operated randomly—a rarity in a world where control was the norm.
R9 at Baker Lane (2008)
It was closing in on three in the morning and Jerry the Driver along with Billy the Tech were coming to the end of an uneventful but tiring twelve-hour shift.
Well Digger (2008)
Charlie sat on a makeshift chair at the side of the well with his chin in his hands wondering what was going on down there. For several hours, he had not heard a single sound, nor had there been a tug on the rope indicating that a bucket of dirt was ready to be excavated.
The Third Option (2007)
He had shifty eyes, that Dr. Hirsch. Shifty eyes and a smooth way of talking that made Paul see him as more of a salesman than a medicine man. If it weren’t for the one diploma hanging conspicuously behind him, his office would have been indistinguishable from a marketing intern’s cubicle.
No Rewrites (2007)
“Everything is a damn challenge.” I was trying to break the moment of awkward silence in the elevator, but I realized just after saying it that it might not have been appropriate to curse in front of a complete stranger.
Nixle Recursion
Ten. Trapped, trapped, trapped. A circle within a circle within a sphere, rotating around the axis with no one the wiser, except me. A system of repeating algorithms, functions calling themselves with no end in sight, no observable delta in the arguments. It just keeps repeating, no bigger, no smaller,

From Destination Okinawa (2006)

Written between 2004 and 2006, I consider these stories my first efforts at finding my voice. If college had taught me anything, it was that people responded better when I was writing what I wanted to write–not what Professor Ghose in my Creative Writing class wanted me to write. At the same time, I wanted to be brash, honest, and provocative. I judge my success/failure differently with each passing year, but I remember this period as one of growth. Inklings of Vinestead. Glimpses of real issues. It's all there, waiting to be revealed.

Ride the Red Bullet
Johnny woke up that morning and on the holy name of his mother, couldn’t find his car keys. He searched the apartment frantically, even going so far as to check behind the filter in the air conditioner. They weren’t there.
Flying Car (2006)
Andrew sat outside the sanitation building in the cold December morning for fifteen minutes, rubbing his hands together and wondering whether it was too early for him to go inside. He didn’t officially start work until six; that’s what it said on his contract. It was his first
The Hair Fairy
It wasn’t so much a soccer field as a sea of brown dirt with little green islands scattered around the edges. The two goals at either end were missing their nets and the posts were rusting through. It was a very sickly soccer field, but nobody seemed to care. It
Cassie 3.0
What Franco realized in the twenty minutes that he spent staring at the drapes of his bedroom window was that somehow it had just passed eight in the evening and he was without anything to do. Not one thing. The house was a mess, but that was to be expected.
All By One
“Fear not, my son, for his is the kingdom of Heaven.” Alan was crying. The steering wheel had crushed the lower part of his ribcage, had penetrated a good halfway through his body. The bones were bent inward, puncturing his internal organs. His breath came shallow and not without pain.
Grasshopper
If it was summer and if it wasn’t raining and if the sun was making the last third of its journey back towards the horizon, you could bet on finding Calvin running though the expansive field of tall grass behind the hospital, chasing the large grasshoppers from blade to blade,
In the Hearts of Men
“Good morning, Mr. Lohen. What can I do for you today?” The stilted man in a brown suit glanced up nervously at the salesman and removed his weathered hat. He looked quickly to his left, taking in the two men sitting in chairs in the waiting area. “Please, come into
Blood Money
It was a Friday when it happened, early in the morning before the outer lights had really turned up for the day. Beth was in the kitchen preparing a breakfast of potato pancakes and bacon. As the thin strips of pork sizzled in the pan, she set the table, dressed
Scotty Peanut
Scotty Peanut was standing on his front porch when he heard a far-away voice say, “Don’t go sledding today.” But he did anyway. Everyone was so concerned with what happened to little Scotty that no one stopped to wonder whether the poor boy was even dead or not. Sure,
Going Back
There wasn’t anything special about the two-story building sandwiched between a bank and a delicatessen on the eight hundred block of Congress. Nothing about its olive-green bricks or smog-stained windows suggested that anything out of the ordinary was taking place inside. There was no sign telling the passers-by what
Where They Cannot Follow
Captain Decker crouched near an abandoned car at the end of Vance Circle, listening for sounds of movement. Beside him, his brothers in arms Coleman and Holbrook sat on the cold roadway, running their fingers over their rifles, checking them for damage. A few feet away, a man and a
Flight
Frankie wanted to fly, wanted to fly so badly that he could taste it. It was the only thing he wanted to do. He thought about it all the time; during class when he was supposed to be paying attention, during dinner when he was supposed to be eating, and
Slow Burn
The office was damp and humid. The windows were fogged up, hiding the rolling clouds and falling rain behind them. A summer storm was approaching from far off shore, but Don Chalburt wasn’t worried about a little gust and thunder. His eyes constantly alternated from the ceiling to his desk,
Money Tree
There are always spaces in the world that go unnoticed, little areas marked off by the arrangement of houses or the arbitrary division of land. One such place existed between the playground of an elementary school and the backyards of several townhomes on the edge of a neighborhood. Two fences
Holloway
It was Thursday, but it could have been any day to James Holloway, starting the same way it had countless times before, waking up with the foul aftertaste of the nightmare fresh in his mind, mixed in with trace amounts of his own blood from biting his tongue during the
Destination Okinawa
Author’s Note: With time and distance, I realize the entire premise of this short story makes no sense. A secret agent infiltrating a group of high schoolers? Making moves on an underage girl? As we say in 2024, it’s a bit problematic. It made more sense when I was younger,

From The Sum of Memory (2004)

It's easy to look back on my first stories and cringe, but what I really see is chaos, someone thrashing around in the dark, trying to make light out of nothing. There's an element of overeager edginess to some of these stories, a desire to shock or disgust. I see several dreams here and efforts to convey the emotions felt in them. There are some attempts at science fiction, but the spark is so dim as to be nothing at all. It's not all bad, though; this is where Vinestead International was born.

Parlance
SHE WAS SITTING IN HER FAVORITE CHAIR, holding a Corona in her hand, when she looked over at me and with all the seriousness in the world, said in a low voice, “I am eternity.” I found this odd because normally she wasn’t given to such profound statements. As
Mosey General
THERE IS A STORE in Thurber, Maine, by the name of Mosey General. It is on the corner of Crane and Gilman, across the street from a barbershop and post office. The store occupies the lower floor of an old two-story building. From the street, you can see an old
Chelubai
“So, what circle of hell do you find yourself in today?” Caleb ignored the question, merely sighing heavily in his chair.
Midnight Playground
The watch on Ludwig’s wrist read 11:57 p.m. He watched several seconds tick by before raising his head again to scan the horizon. The playground was dark; the clouds were eclipsing the moon, making it difficult for it to light the world.
Third Period
Diego was seated at his lab table when he felt a warm tremor go through his body.
Dreamlover
So close to the end, with a gun to my head, and a paper cup under attack from a colony of ants, I could only stop to think how my life had been wasted in this small apartment, alone.
Marinero
The train station was crowded; it was noisy and smelled like a bathroom.
Case 442
Running, running, running, circles in a dark room. Carpet worn in rectangular circle where the girl of fifteen has been running running running all night and all day for a week now. Mumbling to herself in the darkness, I hear her from behind the safety of the mirror-window, dimmed now
Reflections
He sat with his legs crossed and arms folded in his lap, watching silently as the scene unfolded in front of him. His point of view moved with expert direction, making the image an almost perfect reproduction. He felt as if he could reach out and touch the world it was showing.
Spark
Near the end of the dream, locked in the sadness of a final embrace, I heard it; the grating sound of the alarm clock. It was faint, but even in this world, it echoed all around me
Code
“This,” said Simmons, throwing a stack of papers onto the mahogany table, “is totally unacceptable!” The papers hit the table and took flight, briefly swirling in the air. It was enough to distract Peter, the newest employee and youngest of the group.
The New Kid
The Montgomery Center for Teens was decorated in early Christmas garb. White lights were strung along the roof and doors; they blinked on and off in time with nothing in particular.
Shadow Beach
“Welcome back, Mr. Brooks,” said the young woman behind the counter. “And you too Ms. Hiller. Just couldn’t stay away could you?” She was dressed in a light pink bikini, despite the air-conditioned room. A small necklace hung from her neck with a tab that said, “Joyce.” We smiled in response.

Note: Although they appeared in the printed version, some stories have been mercifully omitted from publication here. I also thought it would be odd to include the original The Sum of Memory story that was later rewritten into Xronixle.