Hope you all are ready to do some reading! The 2015 Spring Anthology: Full Circle is NOW LIVE for your enjoyments. Eleven new stories to help you get through the weekend. Don't forget to leave the authors a review to let them know what you think of their hard work. Now, what are you waiting for? Read!!!!

 

 

 

 

"Tell me about yourself, Mr. Connor."

 

I was in a spacious room with glass walls, the Los Angeles skyline could be glimpsed outside. The room itself was barely furnished, a mahogany desk, a white sofa made of leather, and a couple of shelves stuffed with books, empty vases and knick-knacks. Behind the desk, the man interviewing me was seated on this big leather office chair which I had no doubt was comfortable beyond imagination. I was seated in one of the smaller, identical office chairs in front of him, the one that was to his left.

 

The man looked younger than me by a year or perhaps two, in his mid-thirties most probably. He had on a smart three-piece suit, dark blue almost black, his shirt was cream-colored and the necktie was plain royal blue. To complete the effect of the successful businessman-look, he of course wore rimless glasses which, depending on the way he moved or tilted his head, seemed almost not there. An easy smile was on his lips which turned into a strained one probably due to me not saying anything in a while.

 

 

 

 

Alex tilted his head back, feeling sweat trickle down his neck as the sun bathed his face. He was hot and drowsy, the muted pounding of the waves breaking on shore and the far off shrieks of children playing creating a lulling melody. He was drifting in the limbo between awake and asleep, when he heard the soft, but unmistakable sound of a body settling into a nearby chair.

 

Alex figured that Derek would be the only one to take the seat but he cracked an eye open cautiously, just in case and smiled a little. Derek was in the chair, wearing standard beachwear: a T-shirt with his swimming shorts, sunglasses. Alex knew that underneath his glasses, his eyes were rimmed with dark circles and that the shirt hid a frame that was bony, bordering on gaunt, but now he just looked like a slender guy enjoying his time at the beach...or trying to, at any rate.

 

"I told you this was a nice place, right?" Alex said, optimistic that Derek had decided to leave the little villa and venture out.

 

 

 

 

My leg ached, but I was able to push up on my hands without pain making me feel like the muscles, tendons, and ligaments were trying to detach from the bones. Moshe and Lisco were curled up together on the other side of the bed. Lisco’s hair was still damp from our late-night shower. He’d insisted on cleaning up after we finished fixing the fences and getting the cattle back where they belonged.

 

Then he’d showered again after I made the whole mess of yesterday up to him. To be fair, between me and Moshe, he’d been quite the mess. Water was always at a premium here in the Interland, but they’d hooked up some sort of system with their shuttle which reclaimed and recycled the water, making it fit for use again. I still didn’t know how, exactly, but since we’d had plenty of water for our showers yesterday, I wasn’t going to complain. That was one indulgence I had enjoyed in the city.

 

 

 

 

Elliot made one final adjustment to the engine, then stepped back and momentarily surveyed his work before sliding into the driver’s seat. He turned the ignition and the engine roared to life, settling down almost immediately into a contented purr. “Yes!” He pumped his fist as he jumped out of the car and ran into the shop’s office. “Hey sweetheart, you’ve gotta listen to this!”

 

Max looked up from the paperwork he was completing. A glob of mayo from his sandwich stuck to his beard. Elliot giggled. “Wipe your chin, babe.”

 

Max wiped his face with a napkin and followed his fiancé into the car bay. Elliot gestured to the ’52 Chevy with a big grin.

 

“Hey, you got it started! Great job, babe!” Max enveloped Elliot in a bear hug, spinning him in a circle.

 

“Easy, tiger! You don’t want me to get motion sick all over you!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Romeo watched the clock over the entrance door. The second hand hopped over the twelve and another minute had gone by. Eight-thirteen a.m.

 

“One maple mocha to go, please.” Like every morning, Lila was getting a coffee for her boss. “And something to go with that that will make her real fat.” Their relationship wasn’t the best.

 

Grinning, Romeo grabbed one of the tall paper cups, poured a double shot of espresso, and mixed it with chocolate syrup. He showed her the bottle. “Lots of sugar.” She grinned enthusiastically.

 

After adding steamed milk, he lifted the spoon dripping with whipped cream. “That’s the real thing, not that spray can stuff.”

 

 

 

 

I could hear the song playing on my iPod and found it sort of amusing. I really guess I was in a New York state of mind, but only because I had to go back. There was so much there I didn’t want to have to deal with. That was the whole reason I had left home ten years ago. Funny, you can’t truly escape your past. Life has a way of forcing you to go full circle and face the things you would rather forget.

 

“Please return your seats to an upright position.” The flight attendant drew everyone’s attention with her sweet southern drawl. “At this time we ask once again that all electronic devices with wifi enabled are turned off as we begin to prepare for our descent. We will be arriving on time at McArthur Airport in Islip, New York. We hope you have enjoyed your flight.”

 

I looked out the window, and as we passed below the clouds, could already make out the ocean and Fire Island as the plane approached our final destination.

 

 

 

 

I met him on a full moon, though at the time I had no idea of the significance of this. I was walking home from work in something of a funk, because despite having followed every instruction given to me by my supervisor, due to some tiny error deep in the source code of the project, the whole function I’d been working with had failed to run. So I had stayed late, dug through a pile of gibberish written by my predecessor, and worked out why he’d been politely but firmly ‘let go’ three months previously. I had planned to go and enjoy the first evening of good weather in the park on my way home, stretch out on the grass, and forget all about work, and the enormous pile of washing up I had to do, but by the time I left the sun was sinking into the twilight, and the city was full of fast moving tail lights as everyone else tried to get home. A chill breeze had picked up, rolling with it the scent of salt from the river: there was no point doing anything else other than get home, get warm, and lounge on the couch in sweatpants while browsing the take-out menus.

 

I waited at the corner of Seventh and Charleston for the walk signal, contemplating the potential benefits of garnishing pizza with duck sauce, and as the light flashed green I took a step off the pavement. I wasn’t looking when he hit me, and we collided hard enough that I was forced back and off balance.

 

 

 

 

Why did he come? He didnʼt owe the old man anything nor his mother . . . What did she ever do to stop him? Nothing but to patch him up when the old man was done. He was his own man now, and he had no need of false affection; he owed him nothing. Not that the old man would ever ask for anything.

 

The crack-crunch of frosted grass underfoot—silvered blades crushed and snapped—were his company on the walk up the slope. Nearer to the top of the rise, a bright-red cardinal sang from a winterʼs oak tree nearby, bare of all but a few leaves wizened and curled around their edges—grasping little fingers. The crisp, dry air carried the song clear and sweet; the color reminded him of blood. The phantom taste of iron bloomed on his tongue with the association—he spat on the cold ground, watched until crystals began to form in the spittle—the old man had made sure of that; the taste wasnʼt something to forget.

 

 

 

 

The phone was ringing in my apartment when I got home from work. I missed it before I could get there.

 

I got out of my work clothes and hit the shower. Construction work was fun and paid well but it was hot, dirty and dangerous. It didn’t take too much of it for me to figure out that I didn’t want to do it for a career. For now it was paying the bills.

 

The phone rang again and interrupted a perfectly wonderful dream as I was napping on the couch.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Jimmy. Thank God I got you.”

 

 

 

 

The ‘ding-ding-ding’ sound of someone winning jolted Brian out of his trance. He’d been watching Roger push the cart with a new beer keg across the playing room floor of Ruby Jo’s Casino and appreciating the show. He shook his head like a wet dog and turned to get the step stool out of the way.

 

“You’re staring at him again,” a tinkling voice teased him. Brian turned and saw his coworker Lydia was shaking her head with a smirk gracing her bright red lips. “He’s gonna catch you and beat the crap outta you. Don’t you know that?” she chided him.

 

“I’m not staring,” Brian mumbled. He brushed his sandy-blond hair back out of his eyes. “I was making sure he didn’t have any problems.”