Homicide Hooligans - a short story
SOMEONE CALLED IT “Bloodless Tuesday”. Rather it was said as if reading a menu, like we say it’s Guiso Thursday…
That’s how it started, radio chatter—“must be Bloodless Tuesday”—on the non-public radio channel used by patrol to summon homicide.
Even so we were expecting blood.
Here’s the thing the M.E.—that’s the Medical Examiner, who also gets called to murder scenes—apparently couldn’t find any blood!
DarkSpeed - a short story
WHY SHE THOUGHT it was Tuesday, she didn’t remember.
At the moment of truth, it had only taken the smallest amount of energy.
The ounces per square inch it took for the pressure of the tip of her left index finger to activate the touchscreen’s launch icon had never been measured. It would have been a flawed measurement in the artificial gravity of the orbiting launch platform.
It didn’t matter now, if anything did. Or did it?
39 Circles - a short story
Alzheimer’s and scruples and gold, a strange mix for a strange hunt! The light’s changing, stop— “Stop, Lara!”
In small microbursts of motion her eyes had flicked from the “L”, to the traffic light almost above her, to the car she barely avoided rear-ending, to the light and back to the “L”. Pulse racing; she scanned the substructure of Chicago’s famous elevated train.
She had known about the gold coins since she was seventeen and gold was about $300 an ounce. Those fourteen ounces of gold, she recalled fantasizing at the time of her uncle’s death, if they exist, are worth about eight thousand dollars.
the Butterfly Affect - a short story
It was a September dark-thirty in Dallas, six days from the autumnal equinox when I saw Officer William ‘Warthog’ Wilson standing transfixed on the night of 16 September--just minutes after the robbery.
Whether it was gravity, indecision, being frozen in place by fear, or indeed he was simply waiting his turn, he was as stationary as the obelisk, commemorating the final battle for Texas’ Independence, known as The San Jacinto Monument.
Then the butterfly flapped a wing.