Short Fiction: The Museum

Lyle Kelp loved dinosaurs. He thought they were the perfect creatures. Not triceratopses though. Jeez Louise, you didn’t want to be around when he launched into one of his anti-triceratops rants. But he loved the other dinosaurs. Lyle lived in Sinklewich, a town in the fair state of Obadiah. The governor of Obadiah got people... Continue Reading →

The Heist (The Final Part)

“It is you,” he said. I didn’t know what to do. “Do you know who I am?” he asked. “Uh, yes sir,” I said. “I have a lot of respect for you, and if you could just let me explain—” “No, no. That’s not what I meant.” He peered at me. “You’ve been there recently, haven’t... Continue Reading →

The Heist (Part 11)

I flew backward, or downward, in a freefall, and then came to a thudding halt. The light was gone, and so were the two crowds. I was on my bed in the apartment, my arms and legs thrashing about. Rory was trying to restrain me, and yelling at me to wake up. When I realised... Continue Reading →

The Heist (Part 7)

A few days after I returned from China we went for the big score. It was a quiet Wednesday morning at the Museum, perfect for stealing a painting. At our apartment we readied our popes, getting them into their papal robes then putting a large overcoat and hat on each of them. That way, their... Continue Reading →

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