Archive for Short stories

A Good Day for a Ride

The bike path was wide and well engineered. Designed by experienced bikers, Eric thought. Not a racing circuit, but shady and scenic; the noise and combustion of Houston was far way. The bicycle, generously offered—graciously accepted—was a Serotta, with a fixed, single gear. Not his normal ride, but it was light, and whisper-quiet. A joy […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Sunday, July 16th, 2006

The Mission: Apology (part 2)

It took five minutes for Ginny to learn that the president of Coastal Mapping and Survey was Maxwell Madden, a retired Air Force officer with a distinguished career, and a decorated fighter pilot. Ginny spent a lot of time during the next week with her head in her hands. Would she never learn, she thought. […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Wednesday, July 12th, 2006

The Mission: The Elevator (part 1)

Ginny watched the man on the other side of the elevator for ten full seconds, then said, “You’re thinking about flying, aren’t you?” The ramrod straight, gray-haired man stared through her, then he slowly raised one eyebrow in response. “But you are, aren’t you—thinking about flying?” she insisted, flashing a blinding smile. ” I was,” […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Wednesday, July 12th, 2006

The Road Trip

Richard Gillette waited until his family had been eating about ten minutes, then raised his voice slightly and announced, “I’ve decided that when we drive to Grandmother Lovey’s house this weekend, we won’t listen to the radio or CDs, or iPods, Elizabeth. Instead, I want you girls to read aloud, from any book you choose.” […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Wednesday, July 5th, 2006

What Do You See?

“OK, John. Close your eyes now, and tell me what we just passed in the field,” said his Dad. John’s dad was the sheriff, and this was a game they played, called “Observations.” “Horses. Eight horses, one with a rider. Two dogs.” “What kind of dogs?” “Border collies,” said John. “What color were the horses?” […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Tuesday, June 6th, 2006

U.S.S. Sudden Jerk

At 0500, the XO called out a new bearing and the helmsman turned her, heading home to Bastia harbor. The night had been warm, moonless, and star-lit. The patrol was uneventful this time—no sightings, no encounters with the enemy, nothing at all to chase. Dawn gave way to the sunrise, until finally the sky was […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Monday, May 29th, 2006

A Night at the Theater

James couldn’t concentrate on the play because the woman sitting in front of him was losing a hair pin. It was pretty, jeweled and sparkling, and slowly working out of her sleek French roll. Every time she moved, or tilted her golden head toward her unworthy date, it slipped out a little more. It was […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Tuesday, May 23rd, 2006

Keeping Up With the Joneses

My name is Greer. I rarely talk about myself, because then I need to explain about my sister, my twin Greta, and our older sister Claudette. We think our little brother, Taylor, got off easy. No one notices anything unusual about someone named Robert T. Jones, Jr. He could have been so rotten, but Tay […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Wednesday, May 10th, 2006

The Friends of the Library Book Sale

Dr. Pakensen arrived early, carrying a book bag. His textbook was no longer in print, but in college towns he could usually find one or two each time he went to a book sale. The fundamentals of chemistry never changed, but his Chemistry for the Non-Chemistry Major was dumped after five years. Stupid departmental politics. […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Thursday, April 27th, 2006

Sauerkraut Dreams

“You ever eaten a hot sauerkraut sandwich?” asked Max Dolje. “Um, I don’t much care for sauerkraut.” “This is Mama’s sauerkraut,” he said. “Sit there.” Max pointed to a chair at the bar dividing the kitchen from the den. Tony was there to install a new dishwasher. He should have been back in town by […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Thursday, April 20th, 2006