It’s never easy, or necessarily right, to tell someone you love that they’re acting like a cunt. It’s a bit abrasive I suppose, and, yes, that might be an understatement. But hey sometimes, for lack of better options, you just have to go all the way with it. Skip the, “Hey, could you not do … Continue reading When It All Went To Hell
It was time for Colombus Elementary’s third annual teacher meeting since La Familia had taken over. Five teachers sat in the break room. The school bell rang. Ted, the rotund, silver-haired prinicpal wearing a grey Armani suit that had recently been pressed, sat at the head of the table. He fanned himself with … Continue reading The Meeting
Since we’d left the bonfire, we’d been watching the Puerto Rican men race their horses on the strip of road next to the parking lot. Luna, Taryn, Brian, and I had come to the car for the rum, and when we’d arrived Brian decided to roll a joint. The keg sat in a small hand-dug … Continue reading Broken Horses
The last three years I had hosted at Le Phoque, Paulo Embretti’s newest endeavor. I absolutely loved that job. It had been everything. More than a paycheck or social circle, I had a tiny piece of real estate in The City – a booth at striking restaurant. A moderate space filled with handcrafted tables and … Continue reading Tetra
The blue house with white trim had what most would consider the perfect front porch. The porch itself was atop a four-step walkup, set back about twenty feet from the sidewalk. When staring out into the neighborhood, the steps landed on the far-left side of the porch, and the porch extended to the right seventeen … Continue reading The Jade
“Fucking Simón… late again,” Drew said, looking at his watch. A ticket started to print, errr, errr, errr – burger, mid-rare, side of fries. Drew read the time-stamp on the ticket, “Eleven-oh-two. That fucker.” The restaurant opened at 11:00am. Drew was always pissed at the first ticket of the day, regardless of when it came … Continue reading Cocineros
Back before I was Detective, it was Officer Canela. That was about twenty years ago. And, no, if you’re asking, they haven’t flown by. I feel every bit older. The kids are all grown up, Eddie and Teresa. My wife, Nancy, she’s older. Nancy looks good though, you know? She’s kept it together, still hits … Continue reading RANK
ACT I Stetson’s hat was a part of his identity. After all, he’d worn a fedora every day of his adult life. Shortly before becoming a reporter for the Missoulian, the Missoula Montana daily, Stetson had changed his name from ____ to Stetson. He felt that his new name was much cooler than ____, … Continue reading After the Show
As of two weeks ago, I’ve embarked on a journey to cover the 2016 presidential election with my friend and photographer, Brett. We have already traveled 3,000 miles and spent time in Iowa, Wisconsin, Illinois, Michigan, and Ohio. Next up is Pennsylvania, Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. Then we’ll reasses and determine where … Continue reading On The Road: 2016 Presidential Election
I A man wearing a grey, three-piece suit, whose dark hair was slicked back in a stylish 1950s coif, stood outside of Terry Runkle’s house and whispered to a raccoon. The raccoon’s name was Fred. It was 11:00p.m. Time was important to the man in the suit, because he dealt in a world … Continue reading The Adjustment Bureaucracy
