Category: Spinetingler Fiction

FICTION: The Getaway Car by Jack Bates

Billy McCutchinson let loose with a string of blue words that did not end with ‘In Jesus’ precious name, amen.’ He wore a pair of tattered gloves on bony hands he wrapped around the brittle handle of the shovel they…

FICTION: Plebs by Nicholas Kish

My cell vibrated its way across the dinner table. Came to rest against my pint glass.  Photo of my sister-in-law Deb showed on the display screen.  My wife Tanya and I just looked at each other. – Yeah Deb. –…

FICTION: Liar’s Poker by Craig Faustus Buck

Lyla Dechanet offered to make a fresh pot of coffee. Assistant District Attorney Marie Deguerre declined and homicide Detective Rex Wilde said he’d be fine with leftover java from breakfast. He needed a jolt not a treat. He thought he…

FICTION: Feline Visitor by Aaron Fox-Lerner

I’m not exaggerating when I say she worshiped the cat. Maybe it’s better to say she served it or waited upon it. She treated it like her (our) own personal king. Girls in Asia tend to like cute things. They…

FICTION: The Orange Chaser by Bill Surdenik

The first thing I should admit, I guess, is that I’m not smart. It’s always the first obvious thing people figure. Even knowing it’s true I still have this instinct to fight against it, like a touch of stubborn vanity…

FICTION: Employee Compensation by Andrew Riconda

My boss, Chet Overhill, and I had hated each other for quite some time — this became abundantly clear during performance review earlier this year — so, he probably surmised I was the least reliable of his sycophants to have…

FICTION: One Gold Tooth by Patrick Cooper

“That cat right there,” Isaac said. “That’s the one I been talking about.” Markus put his drink down on the bar and looked where Isaac was pointing. “The fat one?” “Fat as a house.” The fat man bent over the…

FICTION: A Kindness by Max Sheridan

The late-October wind blew shadows down the canyons of empty office buildings and dead lamp-lit streets. Barr checked his phone. Eight o’clock. Late for dinner again. He gave Deborah a quick call, telling her she should go ahead and eat…

FICTION: Velma and Jeff by Salvadore Ritchie

It was my understanding when someone has finalized their decision to commit suicide they obtain a kind of euphoria about the conclusion they have made. The heavy baggage that magnetizes to us during the journey we call life magically falls…

FICTION: Doire by Angel Luis Colon

I’ve made a lot of dumb decisions in my life. Case in point: I’m lying in wait on a deer stand about twenty feet up a chestnut oak in the middle of Nowheresville, Kentucky, with a major crick in my…

FICTION: With A Name by Michael McGlade

I hadn’t seen Harry Ficco since he was popped in the nuts by a ginger midget. Vicious little bastard: the midget, not Ficco. Had it coming for what he did. Shouldn’t have slept with the midget’s wife. But Ficco wasn’t…

FICTION: A Shortage of Things to Say by Albert Tucher

“Interesting,” said the fisherman. “How is it interesting?” said Coutinho. It struck him as anything but. “You could say that’s the southernmost dead man in the United States.” Coutinho got the joke. No one who drove through the nearby town…

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...