This was an ezine whose author tragically passed away.
| Story Name |
|
# Episodes |
|
Author |
|
Published |
| A |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
August 2002 |
| The boy sat very quietly in the corner on the hot summer evening. A smell of rancid sweat and fetid cooking filled the atmosphere of the shack. With patience unheard of in most fourteen-year-olds, only his eyes followed as his stepfather crossed the kitchen with increasingly slower lurches. With a crash the old man finally sat down at the kitchen table, head nodding, close to sleep. |
| |
| A Nurse's Story |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
July 2002 |
| This story is true, but I don't remember the dates and details, just the expressions on the face of the young woman as she told it to me. |
| |
| An Affair of the Heart |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
June 2002 |
| It was a stormy week in late March, not the driving blizzard conditions of the previous months, but a constant mix of light snow and drizzle that enveloped the town in a pall of gloom. Folks became surly and were apt to snap a sharp retort at any question. |
| |
| As Close As They Come |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
August 2002 |
| The Atlantic Ocean is usually viewed as a friendly ocean by recreational boaters and swimmers, in spite of the shark attacks in the South and the uncertain weather conditions in the North. The fishermen, the people who work the ocean for a living, view it with suspicion at all times, for they know a split second's carelessness can start a sequence with only one possible ending - death. |
| |
| Attitude |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
May 2003 |
| Speedo Varney is what you could call an avid turkey hunter. He has all the gear, and he makes the time. And he has a do or die attitude. |
| |
| Children of the Night |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
August 2002 |
| Jim Burns was awakened at 3:30 AM by the wailing of the coyotes. It was the full of the moon in December, and the view out of the window was nearly as clear as in the daytime. He knew he would not be able to again achieve sleep. So he slipped out of bed silently so as not to arouse his wife Elizabeth. |
| |
| Death Angel |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
August 2002 |
| My name's Dooligan, but my friends call me Dooley. I'm a private dick. I don't do divorces and I don't do insurance fraud. Lately I've been thinking about adding medical jobs to the list. I'll tell you why in a minute. |
| |
| Death on the Rocks |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
August 2002 |
| Jake Grady stood on the back porch and looked at the jagged rocks in the stream below. There was a small waterfall directly under the deck, and whoever built the house must have thought the effect was striking. All Jake thought was that the 35 foot drop to the rocks would be somewhat final. |
| |
| Dooley and the Kilroy Burglar |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
January 2004 |
| The slither of sound almost jumped me out of my skin, but I didn’t make a move. On the outside, anyway. Inside, needles raced up my spine, and my heart beat a little faster. Worse yet, the two beers I’d had while asking questions in a tavern were starting to work. I had to take a leak. |
| |
| Dooley and the Locked Room |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
July 2002 |
| I'm Dooligan. My friends call me Dooley. I'm a private detective who tends to be short tempered and lazy. I don't do divorce cases unless they pay an exorbitant fee, and I don't like working for corporations. Like I said, I'm getting lazy. Or maybe bored. I like a problem, a challenge, and if it's attached to trouble that's okay too. Dooley and trouble. The two words tend to be interchangeable. |
| |
| FreeHawk |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
July 2002 |
| The momentum of my run down the hill helped my legs leap from the rock to roping distance. Speed was the only requirement, and I used the quick double overhead throw to send the loop around the magnificent animal's neck. He reared briefly; then ran straight for me. I had half expected this and I ran a tight circle around a rock for a snub. As usual my pal Murphy with his law was right there along with me. He might have been sitting on my shoulder. A sharp edge on the rock sheared my rope cleanly and the palomino lunged forward. I instinctively leaned back and over I went on the uneven ground. The great animal's hooves loomed above me. I leaned back on my shoulders and tried to obtain just one more inch.... |
| |
| Good Intentions |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
November 2002 |
| Mary's daughter Teresa was more than a handful. She was trouble personified. My guess was poor genetics, but Mary was sure the problems were man made and therefore solvable with kindness. |
| |
| Gunslick |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
June 2002 |
| I even polished my boots that morning, right after I shaved. There is something about being clean-shaven and wearing fresh clothes that gives a man an edge in attitude. I sported a new white shirt and black pants. A black vest was the finishing touch. I brushed my hair in the mirror and grinned. If appearance counted for anything then I had an edge, and that was what I needed that morning. For in twenty minutes I would meet a man in the street. A minute after that one of us would be dead. |
| |
| Herk and the Turquoise Cowboy |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
September 2002 |
| This is an 'Almost True' story, in which all the events spoken of have happened, but not in the same sequence as delivered. Herk's real name is Henry, and a better traveling companion one could never hope to find. And, yes, Virginia, there is a Turquoise Cowboy. I am he. |
| |
| In Search of Self |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
November 2002 |
| Deirdre had moved to the city of Boston in a quest for answers to questions she could not name. Strange feelings tugged at her inner core. The trouble was that she could not isolate those feelings and find a sense of direction. Like many people recently graduated from high school, she had no goal, no clear sense of what she wanted to do with her life. |
| |
| In the Heat of the Summer |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
June 2002 |
| The two old men were discussing the swimming hole that the young teens of the neighborhood were using. It was a big pool in the stream formed by an old dam. Over the dam was the bridge for the road, and there was the problem. The kids liked to dive from the bridge into the cool waters below. That was dangerous in itself, but they tended to ignore the traffic and there was a potential for an accident. Especially if the blond girl in the light blue bikini was preparing to dive. |
| |
| It Was a Dark and Stormy Night |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
July 2002 |
| ...when the Marie St.Clair went down. She was three weeks on the Grand Banks and her holds were nearly full when she disappeared from radar screens. A swordfish boat four miles away said she was running parallel for an hour and then their Loran screen went blank. Whatever had happened was quick. She was probably holed and went straight down, for no wreckage was ever found. |
| |
| Motor |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
September 2002 |
| My mother, now eighty-nine, has a scar on her leg that she received in the year 1929. When asked about it, the details are always the same. Some days stick in one's mind, and for good reason. |
| |
| Mountain Boys |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
May 2003 |
| By all rights, Prentice should have known. I mean, anytime you see two lads with new pick-ups and taking Caribbean cruises, you should realize they aren’t the mountain hicks they let on to be. But maybe the man didn’t learn this until later. Maybe, but I think it was just plain arrogance that made him think he could get the better of them. |
| |
| New Year's Day |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
August 2002 |
| The sun rose like an orb of blood, for all the days saw rain now. When it didn't rain it was blistering hot, and the equator had long ceased to be a region in which life could exist. Waters had all become warm now, except from the tiny springs in the mountains. Because of the heat the water that had redistributed a plethora of heavy metals, and new life forms were beginning to develop. |
| |
| Noah's Duck |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
June 2002 |
| (This was written in the fall of 1999, when people were so worried about the possible consequences of New Year's Day, 2000.) |
| |
| One Best Laid Plan |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
November 2002 |
| Number 348620 was known as a model prisoner. He started no fights and did the jobs he was assigned to. The guards at the New York State Penitentiary came to look upon him as a trustee, which he was not. Not even a harsh word came from his lips, and this was one prisoner that the guards figured had indeed been framed. |
| |
| Parade |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
August 2002 |
| Jake Grady and Mildred sat on the rear porch of the house and drank iced tea poured from a glass pitcher. It had plenty of ice and just the right amounts of lemon and sugar. It was a hot stretch of weather, with the humidity high and the temperature never dropping low enough to allow a good sleep at night. Mildred was busy with her crochet work, but Jake had no project this afternoon. He seemed to be restless this afternoon, for he fiddled with his glass, and his eyes darted to every corner of the porch and lawn. Mildred looked at him from the corner of her eye but didn't ask any questions. She knew Grady. It wouldn't be long before he broke the ice and told her what was on his mind. |
| |
| Superstar |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
July 2002 |
| Lance Rocker peered out the backstage door and looked at the gathering fans. Man, they were wild tonight. This was his first tour in two years, and his last album, Light Phase, was still selling well. In fact it was now listed as a standard; a record against which others are compared. |
| |
| The Ad-man |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
September 2002 |
| Cigarettes have always featured delightful vistas and beautiful people doing fun things. After a very few hours of contemplation (well, maybe there was one nap in there) I came up with the following: |
| |
| The Biggest Buck |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
October 2002 |
| Opening day. The latest of the many the man had seen through his life. Probably the last one he would ever see. |
| |
| The Cowboy Goes to Daycare |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
November 2002 |
| The summer of '98 was a hot one, and I rode my Harley dresser almost exclusively. Even when it rained I'd head out on it in the morning. Such is the allure of motorcycling when the mood really hits you. |
| |
| The Dumbest Animal |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
March 2004 |
| Red Hartley had stopped to pass the time with Wilbur Hanks. Wilbur had a mule that was, to say the least, unique. It had a definite personality; perhaps even a sense of humor. |
| |
| The Green Eyes of Trouble |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
March 2004 |
| It was the flash of green eyes from under light brown hair that nearly tripped him up. Leaving the train, he saw that look, and his foot went between the step and the dock. |
| |
| The Hunters |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
September 2002 |
| We were sitting around a woodstove trying to dry out after a stormy day of ice fishing. Hunting season had ended a month ago but it was still fresh in the men's minds. |
| |
| The Jonah |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
October 2002 |
| Tom and Wendy Nason were old friends of mine, and through the years they had four children; two boys and two girls. The boys were the older ones and had already gone through school when Tom was killed in a logging accident. |
| |
| The Native |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
October 2002 |
| The lap of the waves was subdued on the smooth wetness of the light brown sand. Not a sign of life was to be seen on the water. The only movement was a pair of gulls that soared smoothly overhead, crying softly as they moved over the shoreline in search of sustenance. |
| |
| The Sea Claims Its Own |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
July 2002 |
| Milford had always been known locally as a caution. As a kid he had been known for his outrageous sense of humor and his willingness to do anything for a laugh. As he grew older the urge to steal the spotlight stayed with him. |
| |
| The Skunk Jump |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
May 2004 |
| I was at my friend Tom’s on a drizzly spring day and conversation, as usual, took in topics from all over the world, none related. The running of the bulls in Spain was analyzed. After reading Hemingway, I understood the basics of why it was done, even though there was no way I would be involved in such a stunt. |
| |
| The Thanksgiving Storm |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
October 2002 |
| The gray drizzle of the late fall storm became colder as the day wore on. What had been an almost balmy fifty-five degrees at dawn was now down to thirty-eight and falling. Many hunters were leaving the woods to bask in the warmth of their truck heaters. |
| |
| The Turquoise Cowboy and The Bounty |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
January 2003 |
| The Turquoise Cowboy was dry and dusty when he rode into the sleepy little town of Mesa. People on the boardwalks could see the weariness that went to the very core of him. Countless miles lay behind him, as well as something much easier to spot. And smell. |
| |
| The Voice of Experience |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
July 2002 |
| Sidney Hurley and his wife Elizabeth were quite disgruntled by the change in the weather. The previous days had been sunny and hot, so hot that his wife suggested they make up a portable camp and 'make like the natives,' as she put it. In truth their outfit was one that a native wouldn't know what to do with. |
| |
| To Play by the Rules |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
November 2002 |
| I like the rainy days. Days when it stays dark all day and the water pours down, be it drizzle or a downpour. I like to write on such days, uninterrupted by people asking me to come out and do something. |
| |
| Trapped! |
|
1 |
|
Timothy Fogg |
|
June 2002 |
| Lou Gehrig's disease (ALS) is a debilitating disease in which the scariest part is that the victim's mind remains sound—he just can't express any of his thoughts. This is the story of one such frustrated person. |
| |
