The day Liz discovered the pipe was a bad one from the start. First, she overslept and was late for school. Second, her nemesis Alana was wearing the same grey and pink sweater as her as if she’d spied on Liz when she ordered it three days ago. Third, and this was the worst, Liz got a B- on a psychology paper she had been really excited about. Apparently, her teacher had not been as excited about the result of her excitement. Continue reading The Strangest Pipe
The key clicked in the lock so loudly I winced. Antonia sobbed by my side. I had tried to comfort her but she didn’t want my comfort. She wanted to grieve and I followed Madeleine’s advice and let her. Continue reading DF Part 5: A Blast from the Past
“I honestly can’t believe we did this,” Sonia said and laughed. I took a sip from my wine glass and mirrored the smile still lingering on her lips.
“We only did it because of you,” I said. “Everybody likes you.”
“Including you?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows. Continue reading DF Part 4: The Perfect Sauce
Do you know this feeling when you’re so tired you can’t really enjoy the fact it’s Friday night and you’re looking at two days of rest? This is exactly how I felt this Friday. Continue reading DF Part 3: A Desperate Man
“I’m really sorry, Lars,” Alicia said. I could see she meant it—she looked everywhere but at me and she nodded as she spoke, like she was trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing. “We just can’t go on like this forever.” Continue reading The Girl in the Street
This is not a fun story and it wasn’t fun to write it but I had to get it out. Parenting is the best thing ever except when it’s the worst. Continue reading The Best Mom Ever
It started as a dream journal. I called it that but the goal I started it with was to collect story ideas – kernels – I could use when I was in the mood for a short story. Apparently, once you finish a novel every story idea that comes to mind is a novel idea, or at least this is the case for me. Now, dreams on the other hand, dreams are short story material, I’ve no idea why. What I know is that most of the short stories I’ve written started their lives as something in a dream. It made sense to collect these story kernels. Continue reading The Story Repository
“I’m really sorry, Lars,” Alicia said. I could see she meant it—she looked everywhere but at me and she nodded as she spoke, like she was trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing. “We just can’t go on like this forever.” Continue reading DF Part 2: The Girl in the Street
This is the first story in what was going to be The Dansk Finanzbar Chronicles, a series of loosely related short stories in the wonderful tradition of Raymond Chandler although my protagonist was not a private eye but a dreamer, a person who can change reality by dreaming about it, often involuntarily. Long story short, it didn’t work as I expected, so I turned it into a novel. This first story, along with a few others, I think, is good enough on its own, so I’m sharing it.
Author’s note: The ‘z’ in Finanzbar is German and not Danish but hey, that’s how I dreamed it and besides it’s a federation, so there. Continue reading DF Part 1: A Bridge in the Sea
I watched my first horror film when I was in the second or third grade. It was “The Murders on Rue Morgue” and it had a lasting effect on me, to put it mildly. Continue reading The Horror