Informative, Music Blog, Theme Prompt

Trains, Planes, and Automobiles

Written for Song Lyric Sunday
One if by Land, Two if by Sea, and Three if by Air.
This is my response to the challenge.

Continue reading “Trains, Planes, and Automobiles”
Flash, Mini Story, Mystery

Silent Night

Our gracious host, Rochelle, at Friday Fictioneers
encourages us to be creative by writing a story in 100
words or less using the photo prompt below. I am also
going with Fandango’s Story Starter #222 to provide
my first sentence. Here’s where the prompts took me.

Continue reading “Silent Night”
Short Prose

A Dangerous Profession: Conclusion

Written for OLWG, FOWC and
Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge.
This is the conclusion to my story.

Continue reading “A Dangerous Profession: Conclusion”
Short Story

Desperate Times

Written for Kevin’s No Theme Thursday 10.31.24.
We’re offered incredibly creative images to inspire
and get our writing juices flowing. This is my story
.

Continue reading “Desperate Times”
Uncategorized

ST. MONICA

© Ayr/Gray

Frank Rogan, a huge man with a fearsome-looking scar down the side of his face, hoisted himself out of the police car; ice blue eyes cold as death stared at his detective.

“What’s up, Finney?”

“It’s them Italian boys, Chief, the ones from the projects. We nabbed ‘em!”

“Where are they?”

In the tunnels below St. Monica’s.”

Shoving his way passed the detective, Rogan stepped into the dank tunnel; it reeked of urine, paint and hopelessness. At the bottom of the steps were two patrolmen, hands firmly detaining two scared boys. A third boy leaned against the wall, hands thrust deep in his pockets, cap low on his forehead.

“Well, if it ain’t Nicky Pisano and his two stinkin’ turds.”

The cops laughed; Rogan ordered they take the two boys back to the police car. “You too, Finney. Me and Nicky got business to take care of.”

Once alone, Rogan shoved Nicky to the ground. “You and your bastard ginzo friends have been busy down here, Nicky, desecrating the church. Now you’re gonna pay for this sullying.”

Rogan loomed over Nicky. “You’re one of them pretty boys, ain’t ya? You look like your mother sprawled on her back.” Rogan sneered, his hand rubbing the scar on his face.

Nicky roared and sprang to his feet but Rogan was ready, grabbing Nicky by the neck.

“Up against the wall or on your knees, pretty boy – however you like it.”

Unbearable pain seared through Rogan’s groin as Nicky’s shiv found its mark.

NAR © 2023
250 Words

Authors’ Note: St. Monica is the patron saint of wayward children and troubled boys.