Nobody knew how old the Luboneks were, but they’d lived at the top of Pecan Hill since before Cumberland was built, and the town grew up around them. Mr. Lubonek had a voice like gravel and always smelled of engine grease, sweat, and the gritty scent of someone whose friends were machines and whose family… Continue reading Mrs. Lubonek
Tag: Short Stories
Into the Marshes
Mama once sayed not to go down to the marshes cause the snakes and monsters and creeping crawlies live there. They gone eat you up, she says, gone eat you up like a sundae on Saturday morning. What you think Donny Two Cents and I gone do on a boring afternoon? We gone down to… Continue reading Into the Marshes
The Deathworkers Agency
The most annoying thing about death is all the paperwork involved. Every morning, Lyle and I make the trip to the warehouse to sift through today’s files and see whose soul we get to summon and send into the light. “Harold Lassiter, aged eighty-six,” I read from the list of names. “Heart attack. Leaves behind… Continue reading The Deathworkers Agency
The Candy Shop
The candy shop showed up near the end of April, planting itself in the abandoned yellow building on the corner of Millard and Oak Grove. By the time May drifted to a close, the boarded-up windows had been washed and lined with pink curtains and someone had planted a garden in front that inexplicably bloomed… Continue reading The Candy Shop
The Claire Witch Project
There are many things you can easily explain to your parents. Accidentally blowing up your uncle is not one of them. “You are so busted, Claire,” said my sister Lindsay, eying the singed curtains and the freshly made crater in my bedroom floor. “Wait until Dad finds out you were practicing transmorph spells in your… Continue reading The Claire Witch Project
A Night at Pinetop’s Tavern
Somewhere in the back alleys of the city's older section there was a crumbling brick building that had been around since before ragtime music was popular. Hanging above a faded green door that led down to the building's cellar was a wooden sign, and despite the peeling paint, you could still make out the bar's… Continue reading A Night at Pinetop’s Tavern
Carmen
I met Carmen the day someone set the gym on fire. I’d known who she was before then—I’d heard the whispers of the tricks she pulled, and I’d seen her saunter up and down the clinic halls with a wicked glint in her eyes—but it wasn’t until I watched her drop an empty matchbox into… Continue reading Carmen
