The.Stories
Max Noir
Portlandia II
[From Max] I woke in a daze, curled up meekly beneath my motel sheets. It took a moment for the outside world to register, and I fumbled for my phone. No messages. I reached for the TV remote and thumbed my way to the news without crawling out from under the covers. I needed food and coffee. I fished through my pockets for money and receipts, piecing the night back together. The light was on, but it was throwing long shadows in my head. I looked at the time. I took advantage of Motel 6′s late checkout policy and washed up before...
read morePortlandia I
[From Max] I rolled into Portland just after sundown on a Friday. The Occupy movement was in full swing, and Stanhope was in town. Two unrelated events with potential entertainment value. I threw a change of clothes and one of my pistols in my gym bag and hit the road. I don’t belong in Portland. Nevermind the tweakers and the cat-piss smell of meth that floats through the cozy little neighborhoods. Nevermind the strip clubs that pop up next to every other coffee shop. Portland is the whitest place I’ve ever been. ...
read moreOrphan
[From Max] It was sunny and pleasant when I pulled up to the old man’s trailer. Unseasonably warm for early November. Leaves still clung to the trees, or skittered across the street and stuffed themselves into the grassy little corners of unkempt lawns. “This can’t be it,” I muttered, staring at the Toyota in the driveway. I circled the block several times, checking off the possibles. Run down tin-can housing with rusting beaters broken down in the driveways. I checked my directions again; five years old and given to me third...
read moreThe Law of the Sea
“You’ve never been swimming in the ocean!?” Hack didn’t believe me. I lived on the Gulf for almost a year and never once touched the water there. The beaches are man-made, the water brown and filthy. Swimming was low on my to-do list. Rhode Island, on the other hand, was beautiful. Despite the rocky coast, the beaches were sunny and warm. We hunted unsuccessfully for lobster. The only clawed shellfish we could find were two mating crabs. We harassed them, but they refused to separate. I don’t even...
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