The Clink of Glasses
Busy Friday night at the local pub. The patrons are packed in like sardines. Music fills the room, but all that can be discerned by the lovers is the bass beat. There’s conversation, the clink of...
View ArticleFriday Fictioneers-Ian’s Self Destruction
copyright–Lora Mitchell Maggie came home and found Ian “on the nod”. He looked up at her, but couldn’t focus. The heroin he was on must be good. “Mags my love,” he murmured. “Don’t say a fucking...
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