A Man I Once Knew
A Short Story by R. Taylor
Copyright 6/12|All rights reserved
I’ll bet you’d be surprised to hear, that the Robert you know is the Robert I knew.
And if I told you about the Robert I knew, I’m sure you’d insist, there’s no way, just no way, that the Robert you know is the same Robert I knew.
Because, you’d say, that man, the Robert I knew, is nothing like the Robert you know.
And if you said those words, like I know you would… (to continue the story, click Here)
Copyright RTaylor/all rights reserved
My grandmother’s gracious living room is elegant. She holds court in this cozy room, drinking coffee from delicate china during the day and cocktails in crystal glasses at night.
“One must always keep an inviting home,” she says as she floats about the room, running her long fingers across the furniture checking for dust. I follow like a puppy, helping her fluff all the pillows, hoping to be of some help.
“And a proper lady should never be caught just hanging about in frumpy, casual attire. What if an unexpected caller should arrive? (to continue story, click Here)
Lost and Found
Copyright RTaylor/ 2013 all rights reserved
The air inside the Greyhound bus was thick with the smell of urine, garlic, and baby powder, not to mention whatever chemicals they use to try to cover up the stench that floats out of the bathroom every time some poor slob has to use it.
Of course, I didn’t have to sit next to the can. I had the bus to myself when I got on, but I like the last row. It feels more private and no one ever sits next to me, so I can spread out, and maybe not worry so much about somebody stealing my stuff if I nod off or something. (to continue story, click Here)