Sunday, February 19, 2017

Alien Souls

November 18, 2014 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

Alien Souls

(Real Demon in Bald Punk’s Bed–picture removed*) I gazed into the dark, not knowing who I was or what I was about to do. But something told me the object in my hand held the clues. I lifted it as if it weighed nothing and brought it close. I was surprised to see my dull eyes trapped inside its blood speckled surface. […]

Escape to New Jersey

October 26, 2014 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

Escape to New Jersey

Wildwood, NJ – Morey’s Piers – uncredited) I’m so pissed at Benny, “the cigar store Indian.” How dare he say to me, “know yourself… trust only yourself.” The bastard knows I don’t trust him, and instead of trying to reach out to me, he had to one-up me with those words—like he’s the better man. Screw […]

Of The Beast

September 13, 2014 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

Of The Beast

(“Passage of the troops to Long Island” (actually to Gravesend, Bklyn) in 1776, NYPL digital collection) Gray clouds roiled over the darkened Brooklyn shoreline. Every few seconds sunburst colors flashed out through the clouds toward our sloop on the choppy Narrows. I couldn’t hear properly, but each colorful burst produced a thud in my chest. I knew it was cannon fire. The balls were surely raining down over Brooklyn. Aided […]

Vessels Of The Night

July 26, 2014 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

Vessels Of The Night

(Rossville Boatyard – Photo/shopped by Joe) It was a two mile walk from the party, until we came off the road across from a nightclub fronted by sleek cars and loud patrons. I followed Benny, “the cigar store Indian,” down through an abandoned cemetery and along a trail sided by cattails, toward the placid Arthur Kill. It was lit by the moon and stars and lights from […]

Baldie On The Barbie

Baldie On The Barbie

(Blazing Star Burial Ground, S.I.N.Y. – Photo by Joe) This is a dream. Until it’s not a dream. Who can tell… – The pizza and Chinese delivery guys(aka num and nuts) piloted our SUV through Staten Island to the Memorial Day BBQ. I held hands with lady friend(LF) in the back seat. She chatted ceaselessly with num and nuts, […]

Those Eyes

Those Eyes

(Dog Scoping Shit Out, S.I.N.Y. – Photo by Joe/Gimped) It just doesn’t stop staring at me. And it’s looking at me like I’m a fire-breathing, three-headed Mega-Godzilla. But I deserve it. I really do deserve it… ~ I don’t deserve the batty gazes from the pizza and Chinese delivery guys(aka num and nuts). But it’s Memorial Day weekend and nothing’s […]

Daylight

March 11, 2014 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

Daylight

(Atlantic Ocean from Rockaway Beach – Daguerreotype by Joe) Only moments had passed since I reached the beach, having jumped over the side of a ghost ship and swam to save what was left of my life. I collapsed in the wet sand and focused on the sky with some trepidation. Burning bright colors began […]

All Hail The Beast

November 7, 2013 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

All Hail The Beast

(“Cold” by Joe) Dawn is the time for demonic creatures to crawl back into the shadows. And as that first dawn came after my soul had been stained by the demonic blood of both Black Sullivan and Toren the Bloody, for me, it was a time to die…   At the instant the new sun […]

Forever Evil

September 12, 2013 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

Forever Evil

(“Sailboat Moving Between Past And Present” by Joe) Present Day The pizza and Chinese delivery guys(aka num and nuts) are avoiding me. Like I care. I don’t! It’s a good thing. My lady friend(who has tuned me and my blog off of late, I’m just saying…) says it’s because of what I’m writing about in my […]

Black Is The Night

July 8, 2013 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

Black Is The Night

(Black Sullivan) Our gang of twelve headed south on Henry Street, where the strong light from gas lamps made the stars disappear. The smells of manure and vanilla hung heaviest in the air. The vanilla had my head juggling in wonderment as to its origin. My eyes passed over old wood-framed shops and homes, along […]

Next Page »