Sunday, August 1, 2021

Of The Beast

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

(“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

(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

(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

(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 […]

Surviving the Night

December 31, 2012 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Staten Island, Stories

(Rose and Crown Tavern in New Dorp, 1665-1854 – Photoshopped by Joe – *Orig. below) I was roaring drunk as Minna pulled me by the hand through the crowded tavern. Along with the proprietor and his wife behind the bar, we were the only ones in motion. Yet quick-moving shadows peeled up and kept disappearing from the walls. I was looking about for the source, […]

I Am The Fire

November 26, 2012 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

(Center Street in Richmond Town – Photo/photoshopped by Joe) With some trepidation of never seeing our fine oyster sloop again, we left it tied to a makeshift pier in New Dorp Beach and set out on a horse-drawn cart Jack had sent for prior to our coming to Staten Island. We headed along a wooded road surrounded by farmland that ran straight up […]

Hurricane Sandy

November 5, 2012 by  
Filed under Photos, Staten Island

(Photos by Joe) Look closely at the above photo and you can see the height the water rose to on the brickwork. This house is on a section of a street that is about three to four feet higher than other sections of the neighborhood. All of these photos are from Midland Beach in Staten Island, except […]

Hurricane Sandy – Staten Island

November 5, 2012 by  
Filed under Photos, Staten Island

(Photos by Dave) My brother took these photos. All are from either Midland Beach or South Beach in Staten Island. They were taken about five days after the hurricane first hit. Click here to see more Hurricane Sandy pics.   Here are my STORIES and info on my Novels

My Blood Is Your Blood (Hear The Beast!)

November 5, 2012 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

(Image is uncredited – Photoshopped by Joe) May 1854 – New Dorp Beach. In the same spot by the water, where I had just seen a horned creature surrounded by a blood-red mist, there now stood an old man. He was staring out across the clear bay. A lump on his right shoulder seemed to place a great weight on his back […]

What’s In A Name?

October 7, 2012 by  
Filed under Fiction, Secrets of NYC, Stories

(“Face of Fear” – Uncredited) The voice seems to come through frozen lips, which are surrounded by atrophied muscles, sounding as if the speaker is a bloodless thing(which it is). No matter the identity it assumes, I always recognize the tone. Plus the words it chooses trigger ruminations of previous encounters… “I’m only looking out for you. I have your best interests […]

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