Lost DMB Files

To his credit, Lipscomb didn’t appear to be the type to gloat in victory while taking defeat personal. As soon as he could draw a full breath he complimented me on my form and asked if I could teach him some moves when time allowed. I handed him his stupid-looking bowler and told him to … Read more McCutchen’s Bones: p.8

With my dad babbling in the back of the buckboard and Nanette beside me, a quiet and reflective trip was out of the question. After concluding there wouldn’t be a late night visit from local hooligans, I had dozed for a good hour and woke sometime between five and six in the morning to the … Read more McCutchen’s Bones: p.9

“Junior!” I turned to see my old man creeping out from under his covers like death’s spindly pet. “It wasn’t either of our faults.” His shriveled frame bounced and tossed with the jolting movements of the wagon. “For God’s sake, get down and hold on.” I was trying to think of a way to get … Read more McCutchen’s Bones: p.10