Slaughter
It’s hard to find good help these days. Before lunch, I knew the new guy they brought in wouldn’t cut it. His hands shook when I handed him the bolt gun.
It’s hard to find good help these days. Before lunch, I knew the new guy they brought in wouldn’t cut it. His hands shook when I handed him the bolt gun.
Right before I caved and called Dad, his work called. They never do that. The woman’s voice was warm but strange, shaky at the end of sentences.
If the directions the boss gave me were correct, I was getting close to Los Suelos. The road before me devolved from a state highway to a county road of rutted macadam and faded thermoplastic road paint.
The preparations required ingredients she didn’t like clients to see. Most disliked what they saw.
Calvin started going to the diner as an escape. He wanted to avoid church, but his parents made him promise to acknowledge God, His presence, at least once a week.
The truth is I don’t expect them to show up at all. I’m used to getting blown off. It’s basic as hell—New Kid Blues, et cetera, et cetera.
Bianca didn’t have time to stuff the hundred-dollar bill into her pocket before Luis came in to check her register.
I’ve been to more Blue Dicks games than anyone else in town, I bet. I don’t like baseball, but since Robert’s gone I’ve got time on my hands.
It was a short enough walk to the usual haunt. Too short, almost; certainly not long enough to forget the cows.
A bunch of ladies tried to go hiking in a cave but it goes a lot deeper than they thought. There was some freaky dudes inside.