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benjamin j kirby

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Rip Crowley in Fox Osage: The Last Train of Cash MacLeod

The Great Northern had left Grand Forks before the dry, yellow prairie was touched with the sun’s first light. By mid-day, the whistle was crying long and loud as the train chuffed out of the weathered Sioux Falls station, heading southbound towards Wichita across the dismal plain.

They Could Be Heroes

It’s true. The strong kid, laser beam girl, iron-skin guy -- they have all been rumors for so long. Took better than a dozen years, but I finally got a source on the inside. No one too high-up, no one special. But I got blurry pictures and some details out of it. Once that was out there, my site blew up. Just a matter of time before there was a knock on the door.

The Order of the Cerberus

The place, though, isn’t as bad as the noises I can hear on the other side of the wall in the first stall. I wouldn’t admit this to just anyone but it would give me nightmares. If I slept.

Lucky

She stood there, on the stoop. Her beautiful blue eyes lit up, hopeful, like two perfect oceans of possibility and life. Her eyes had been everything to him. Innocence, love, hope, perfection.

The Lady and the Swordsman

But the best room, the room with the most detail, the room done with the most love, delicacy and special care was the larger guest bedroom. Why she chose the guest room for this memory, this moment was anybody's guess.

The First Castle

I got caught up in this trying to do a flash fiction challenge. The challenge was pick a random image and write a 1,000 word story on it in a week. Mine was the castle you see in attached to this entry.

I've had a few things moving around in my head for a long time. The last two months, I've been able to do some reorganizing. Call it mental spring cleaning.

Rip Crowley in Fox Osage

The older one released the cylinder and spun it once. Then he tipped it back, emptying the six chambers of the cylinder. Then he let one shimmering, gold bullet in between his black-dirty thumb and forefinger, and loaded one chamber.

The Prince and the Unicorn

In the clearing ahead, the brush rustled and the pebbles at the edge of the stream registered the sound of hooves. As the blood in his veins turned as black as the evening shadows, he steeled himself for the shot. And for his final choice.

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