The bag was heavier than it looked … no wonder the old man hadn’t wanted to carry it through the streets! Frank grunted as his…
Western stories for your wandering heart
Hugh Wesley - Writer Posts
It was one of those dead winter days when your mind just can’t work because the same cold, dull gray swallows the sky, the concrete…
“Watch where you’re going old, man.” Larry hated Christmas in the city. So many people clogging up the sidewalks. “Pardon me, sir,” the man said.…
There was nothing left to the day, and Abe was as spent as the sun winking out over Riggins Ridge. It had been more than…
The midnight rainstorm had turned to frozen morning fog as winter swallowed the last memories of autumn. A small, familiar handprint grew in the middle…
Mama was right. She’d always told Billy not to cavort with Kevin Tompkins. “I don’t trust that boy,” she’d told Billy the first time Kevin…
I’ve heard the stories forever, even before my first night at Griffin Manor. “They say the eyes follow you around the room,” some skittish maiden…
Old man Norris was sitting there under the big oak tree just like Mr. Franklin said he would be. “Get out there before the afternoon…
It all started with a commotion in the street early that morning. Jake had rushed out the front door without even thinking. Got caught up…
It was a job Abe could have done by himself twenty years earlier. And in half the time, too. Now, with the cold November wind…
