Stories

The following is a short story I wrote about my grandfather that was read at his funeral. A fan of the arts and theater, the story is an

Walking across the bow of the ship, Cromian admired its craftsmanship. “Fine looking ship, isn’t she?” The raspy voice said behind him. Turning around, Cromian saw the six

Elmer’s feet made a clattering sound as he walked down the gravel road to the mailbox at the bottom of the hill. It was a cold morning. The

The phone dropped from his hand as its screen shattered when it hit the hard floor. He felt as if someone knocked the wind right out of him.

Francisca Silva was captain of one of the most notable ships throughout the trade nations of Kuras. Her crew, the Teal Fúria, was loved and feared by the

“Well, what is it going to be, friend?” Samual had no good choices. As he watched the man wearing the pinstriped suit casually play with the switchblade in

I was at the Bazar this morning, running my daily routines. It was when I left Mr. Samijaris Tunoco Stand did something odd happen. I usually keep my

Lawrence McKinley got off the metro train at the Pentagon City Metro station. At 9:00 Am, he could already smell the wood-burning oven from Matchbox, figured that’s where

The crisp fall breeze passed Melinda as she walked her dog down the road next to the Dumbarton Oaks Museum in Georgetown. The autumn leaves were starting to