Mccannon: A Short Story

There was a raw passion that lit up Dennis’ eyes when he spoke about his partner, and that was something she rarely saw between two men unless their relationship was more than just platonic. Not that it was any of her business, but it helped to know the fundamentals, after all, it could well be a domestic violence situation. But her sixth sense told her this was not the case with Dennis and Tom. Whatever their relationship, it was clear Dennis had deep feelings for his fellow officer, and she doubted he would do anything to hurt him

Lila lay on her bed staring at the ceiling thinking over the events of the evening. The more she recalled, the more she was mortified for acting like a love sick, slobbering idiot in front of not only the most beautiful man she’d ever met, but he was her best friends cousin of all things! Lila groaned, burying her head into her pillow. She tried to console herself by thinking she would never see him again. She could avoid him by simply not going back there. It wouldn’t be too difficult to do. She would never have the guts to venture to a club like that on her own. This is exactly the reason that Rachael had taken her there. Lila was trying to convince herself he was charming to all the ladies. He worked at a night club. Of course he would

Flicked, short motion of his thumb against his forefinger, that piece of filth she had missed from the table, uncaring as to which surface it was to sail to next- dispassionate gaze barely lifting from the table top long enough to assure that she had observed him doing so. Correcting that which she had been asked to do, to fix. Personal objects, dirt, and all manner of other he didn't want to examine too closely littering the surfaces of this apartment that he had followed her back to- serpentine gestures and back alleyway paths as if she could shake off whatever shadow it was she felt no doubt trickling down the edge of her spine. Was a creature bathed in deception and suspicion, shouldn't have at all been surprised that it was such

Ernie has always been a little messed up, he has lived in Missouri for the 32 long years of his life. On the day that changed his life forever, November 22, 1996. Him and his family were driving to the mall and they got into an accident. His Mom and Dad both died and Ernie was very depressed. He got the notes, of what made the car accident happen, an inspection failure with the Engine. He did not know what to do with his life. He almost committed suicide, but then out of rage, the decided he was going to make the person who caused the car accident. He went searching for months, and finally came to the conclusion that the person that last assessed the car was Eddie Thompson.

Once given the chance, he reached over to her drink, slipping in a fine powder he had crushed before hand, into her drink. Making sure she was still turned and the bartender wasn’t looking, he stirred her drink before returning to his own, taking a sip. Watching her through hooded eyes, a very slight grin turned on his lips as she took a few drinks of her alcoholic beverage. Now all he had to do was wait it out. Once she was droggy enough from the predator drug, he would take her away from the bar to a far off place that civilization didn’t know of. Most men would rape on this particular drug, but he had other plans, wanting to keep her asleep and droggy enough to ride the bike with a stranger as well as get her to the private place with ties to a chair before the drug wore off. Everette continued to watch her every move, not wanting to get her hurt from someone else's hands besides his

“Not bad,” replied Gabby, who had thrown her bag up on the counter and was trying to fish out a lighter, “just got off!” Both of her stockings had a run in them and flicks of discarded food stuck to the sides of her tennis shoes. Her dress was black and sparkling. Vernon could tell she worked at another diner the moment she got out of the cab. The waitress flipped over an empty cup and poured out what was leftover of the coffee. Gabby had lite her cigarette, inhaled a drag, took a sip, and exhaled out a thick cloud of smoke in one single breath. “Ended up pulling a double?” The swirls in the smoke seemed to actuate Gaby's words. “Don’t remind me!” replied the waitress, who had removed one of her flats and was rubbing her heel, “I’ve been on and off my feet since 9:30 this morning.” Gabby looked towards the front of the diner at the back of Vernon’s head and then back at the waitress. “Rough night?” “Nope,” replied the waitress, “he’s been coming in here late for the last month or so, keeps to himself.” They both could see that Vernon was moving his hands while he was talking to himself. “We still on for tonight,” asked Gabby. “Maybe,” said the waitress, “as long we can get a table.” The band aids on the back of her heels needed to be replaced with new ones. Gabby

Even as she rummaged again through the work-ups, there wasn’t any clear evidence Rosie could find that gave her a thumbnail of hope. She kept running into dead ends and in just twenty minutes, she had interviews scheduled with Hector and Barry Langdon’s son. On a better day, they’d have a choice; either eat from her hand, or be sent inside a jungle to a hungry pride of lions. But today, all she could do was stare at a photo of Frank Daggott and wonder how he had gotten this far. How could he not even have been spotted? His picture not only revealed his large size, but she honed in on his right hand, which looked like it could easily encircle a grown man’s neck. Rosie was confident that Daggott was that man that strangled and murdered Jouka Taekalla. What puzzled her was that someone like Dyanna Montarro could actually fall for the two-bit part-time loan shark muscle. Rosie understood the man had certain aura of power; he put four NYPD officers in the hospital. But a man without brains and integrity was no more attractive than a muddy-filled pond inside the Serengeti.

"I'm fine baby, it was you I was worried about." With his arms on her shoulders, Richard peered into Lexi's eyes, and gritted his teeth at the tears that dripped down his cheeks. What happened to her whilst he'd been fucking around, waiting for darkness to come?" Now wasn't the time to ask, and although a rage, directed at Karl Williams, exacerbated by the memories of his own treatment at the hands of the many many years ago, consumed him, and led to the thought of , despited his questions and fears, of streaming through the closed door, and confronting him and Blair Huntington to demand their freedom. However, common-sense overrode emotions and with Lexi clutching on to his hand, he wiped a tear gently from her cheek, and followed her to the

All he'd had to do was be himself, and not think about things too much! The threat to his crown jewels elicited a smile, that he attempted to keep hidden, before he entered the cabin and lay her on the sofa. She even smiled at him as she did so, and Agent Asshole felt quite proud of himself. "Well, you've been through a lot, Ms Lassiter." Still, his tone remained soft, and there was a note of admiration in his words. "Honestly, not many, if any at all would have coped with what you have, so I guess a little rest and recuperation, and possibly even some spoiling has been earned." The man arched a brow at that, after having checked out the kitchen, and peered down at her, an amused expression passing across his features, as some of her cheekiness appeared to return, and he wondered if she'd take advantage of his new found kindness. He'd be surprised if she didn't, and the look, if she managed to catch it, was to let her know that would only be allowed to happen by his

It was just a casual, beautiful day in New York. Nothing was out of the ordinary that day, that was until a man who was oddly lurking around. Drew Bell, which is a police officer who watches over New York, was on duty that day. She didn't think much of it at first but she still kept a close eye on him. She then noticed he started to look around to see if anyone was watching him, he didn't notice Drew so he continued on his way. She then just put it into conclusion that maybe he was just a homeless man looking for shelter, or food. So she then goes back to her duty. But little did she know he was nothing like that all, and that he would be the person to destroy New York.

20 years ago marching all the way from Argentina to Brazil downing everything in sight. We finally found what looks like heaven in our eyes. We weren't the biggest in the jungle, but we took over everything, nothing stopped us. Whatever got in our way we destroyed and took over. Until, we finally came across with someone who was smart enough to put up a good fight. His name was Leiningen, the only man who has ever defeated us. We put up a good fight, but Leiningen was too intelligent to defeat.

Arising from her perch, she held out her hand for her date to grace with his lips. There was a slight pause as she did, her brow quirking up expectantly as she held his gaze. It wasn’t a difficult thing to do, since there was something in his eyes that reminded her of his brother. However, in that same breadth, she found herself glancing away -- the memories of the masquerade too fresh, too soon. “Everett,” she greeted, a playful smile ghosting across her lips as she pointedly glanced at her outstretched hand. “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice. I wish I could have found a more convenient time for us both -- but, in light of recent events, such an endeavor seems more or less

Its late morning on a Friday somewhere in the northern part of Texas. The clouds are out as if it’s going to rain soon. The streets are calming down as everyone starts makes it to work. Birds are out and still chirping. There is an old red Chevy driving down the highway with both windows down and laughter creeping out to the unto the air. Paul Crafton is driving down the freeway on the way home with his daughter Jane he just picked up from her mother’s house. Paul is in his early forties and was born near El Paso Texas by all of the oil fields. He is a gritty guy always wearing some Levi jeans and flannel shirts. Served fifteen years with the Navy as a ship mechanic which gives him his rigid personality. Divorced about five years ago he now owns his own vehicle shop and lives in the apartment above it.

Something that I would like to document as a community activity that took place during the seasonal celebrations in the month of October, is the invite by Dr. Alicia Gonzales to her home, to celebrate el “Día de los Muertos (“Day of the Dead”). I find this community event to be significant for different reasons, but specifically because it gave me a sense of what the Day of the Dead is about, that is, to keep alive those who have died by remembering.

"Kenny? That you?" he whispers, but his only reply is a low groan. He could be