Half-assed Fiction
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Mansion Over The Hilltop
Edmund Shockley hummed a tune he’d known. It’s a church hymn. He hummed it often, and sometimes a snatch of the words would occur to him too: I’m satisfied with just a cottage below A little silver and a little gold But in that city where the ransomed will shine I want a gold one [...]
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Edmund Shockley hummed a tune he’d known. It’s a church hymn. He hummed it often, and sometimes a snatch of the words would occur to him too: I’m satisfied with just a cottage below A little silver and a little gold But in that city where the ransomed will shine I want a gold one [...]
April 3, 2013 When Dr. Landscombe told Belinda that her mother had slipped into a catatonic state, she supposed that she should have been shocked. As bad as things had been with her mother, it had never been as bad as this. But, she wasn’t shocked. Her discovery of her family history, her strange dream, [...]
April 3, 2013 When not playing jazz at Duke’s at night and busking for tourists at the Quay with his saxophone during the day, Desmond taught music classes part-time at the Westminster Pier Park Arts Center. The building was put up on the end of a short causeway out on the river, ending in a [...]
April 16, 1980 When I wake up, I shake off the unsettling feelings of the dream I had. It’s 3:15 AM. I’m not going back to sleep, so I sit in the kitchen and make some notes, pulling together as much as I can of what Bernie told me. I really would have to send [...]
April 14th, 2010 “Shitshitshifuckingshitohjesusshitohgodjamesshit!” Pearl jammed her cell phone against her lips in order to stem the tide of expletives that had risen unbidden from them as soon as she hung up and stopped that dreadful song from playing. Her breath was coming much too fast, wheezing around the corners of the phone. I am [...]
April 14th, 2010 When James called her back, Pearl had been frowning intently at a smudge on the front of her stainless steel fridge. The fridge looked too new in the carefully preserved kitchen in her dead great aunt’s almost hundred year old house. It was something that constantly irritated Pearl, stickler as she was [...]
Paige Turner was an unlikely heroine. Patchy hair, a slight limp, a lazy eye – even questionable morals. Sadly, she didn’t make up for these oddities with quirky charm. She didn’t offer unassailable talent, an eye for detail or a pleasant singing voice. You’d think, with the name she’d been gifted by her artist parents, [...]
April 14, 2010, James hung up the phone, put it on his nightstand, and went back to bed. Like his friend Pearl, James had had a bit too much to drink too. And like her, he seemed to have some memory gaps. What the hell had happened? The Mad Men party was OK. But, it [...]
April 16 , 1980 The Cabbie, Desmond, says something weird to me before waving off his fee. The meter in the cab is broken, or something. And it’s a short trip up Royal Avenue to my apartment. He says: “That little dark island inside you – it doesn’t define you, you know. You’re bigger [...]
Welcome to Half-assed Fiction
This is a collaborative work of fiction. We encourage mixed media and messing with people's minds. If you're interested in participating we get together once a month to discuss and drink beers. Email us - halfassedfiction@gmail.com
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