Fiction Friday

Photo by Oleg Ivanov on Unsplash

Jack was coming out of the forest when he saw the little car at the cabin across the way.

It caught his attention for two reasons. He was the only full time resident on a country road loaded with vacation cabins. Most of the people left after the holiday, or they spent all their time in town near the lake where it was cooler. The woods were hot this time of year, and the cabins were old. Most were lucky to have an old window unit air condition. …

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The bar was loud and packed with people.

It was truly the last place I wanted to be. I spent most of my time on the road going from small town to small town. At this point, I’d been to every little farming hamlet in the Midwest.

Alas, I had business in the city so I had to blend in with the office drones as they made their nightly ritual to the bar before going home. Their hour of cocktails serving as libations to the gods of spread sheets and TPS reports.

It was the tail end of happy hour…

“Did you want to get a coffee before the movie? We have time.”

“Well someone knows the quickest way to a woman’s heart.”

“I thought it was through the sternum?”

That got a laugh from her, “Marry me?”

“Let’s hold off till the second date.”

“Fine. I guess we can wait.”

I met her on this new app. It wasn’t one of the usual dating apps. At least, I didn’t think they had many on the dark web.

“I thought we’d do the movie first and then get dinner.”

“Works for me. What are we seeing?”

“I don’t know but…

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I finished my coffee and tossed the paper cup into the trash. I tugged on the chain around my neck. It had been itching all morning.

“She in there?” I asked the officer.

“Yeah. They just brought her in.”


I opened the door to find the young woman sitting patiently in the chair. I took the seat across from her, tossing my little leather notebook on the table.

“I’m Detective Ford. Miss….er, Simpson right?”

“Yes. Why am I here?” she asked.

“We just have some questions for you. Just routine really.”

“Okay. Did I do something wrong?”

“No. We…

It was a rainy day, the day that I met her.

I remember the raindrops making their way down the shop windows as I walked along the sidewalk. I clutched my collar, holding it close to keep the precipitation out, and to keep the last vestiges of warmth inside my jacket. The jacket was old and worn, and it was already doing an unsatisfactory job keeping the rain at bay; I refused to carry an umbrella. My shoes splashed in the ever-growing menagerie of puddles, and I had to find some respite from the rain. …

A man meets to discuss and interesting new business opportunity.

Read it here:


The man looked at the house.

At first glance you wouldn’t know the value that it held inside, but a knowing person would notice the small things.

Now there were far more ostentatious residences in the area. But they were visible, at least partially, from the road, this house was hidden. If not for the monstrous gatehouse, one would think it was merely forest.

That was true wealth. When your bank account is so large you no longer need to show off.

This of course did not mean that the home looked penurious in any way. It was made with…


A lot of work and a little luck

Photo by Christin Hume on Unsplash

I started my writing career as a ghostwriter.

While, it was great financially, I hated it. I hated writing things for other people and watching people get credit for my writing.

But, that was the name of the game and it was what I signed up for.

However, a couple years a ago I wanted to make a change. So I started looking for ways to get my writing out there.

One thing lead to another and I found myself writing a blog for a new blogging site. …

The Devil has to handle things personally.

Read it here:


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The demon checked his email to make sure he was at the right place.

Oh I hate going to these hick towns, he thought. He wished to get sent to the cities. There were far more people and more things to do.

But those gigs were left to the more senior demons. Until he had a few years under him, and a few corrupted souls under his belt, he was doomed to these little towns, dealing with oxycontin dealers and petty thieves.

Although, today should be different.

Word around the water cooler was something big was going down in this…

Matthew Donnellon

Matthew Donnellon is a writer, artist, and sit down comedian. He is the author of The Curious Case of Emma Lee and Other Stories.

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