Audio Version, The Fish Does Not Have to be Real.
Apr04

Audio Version, The Fish Does Not Have to be Real.

Audio Version, The Fish Does Not Have to Be Real Reality Check: John Whitworth sat at his desk, his head turning to peer through the glass double doors that also served as his only window to look out over a small portion of Puget Sound. Mount Rainier was visible far in the distance with the sun beginning to arc over its crest.  It was close to noon on Bainbridge Island. Whitworth had not failed in life.  He’d retired from the U.S....

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The Fish Does Not Have to be Real, Short Story by James Strauss
Apr03

The Fish Does Not Have to be Real, Short Story by James Strauss

John Whitworth sat at his desk, his head turning to peer through the glass double doors that also served as his only window to look out over a small portion of Puget Sound.

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Zack, a Short Story by James Strauss
Mar15

Zack, a Short Story by James Strauss

ZACK Short Story By J. Strauss   Zack prepared himself for the confrontation. Winter had been hard.  So very hard. He hadn’t really been ready for that kind of cold. He’d thought he was ready, but it was the wind off that lake that nearly did him in.  He’d been saved by the boathouse. But everything was over. The owner of the big house up at the end of the old runway, which led directly down to the boathouse, had come back...

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Roughy, A Short Story by James Strauss

ROUGHY Short Story By J. Strauss Holder didn’t engage the man because he had a kid with him, not that the son-of-a-bitch didn’t deserve to be properly encountered in spite of the child.  Coffee shops suck in Boston.  They aren’t the warm fuzzy places that dot Seattle’s landscape, where people are running around, talking and generally being friendly.  No, the Boston Common Coffee shop, in what they call the North End, is a cold place...

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Christmas Pueblo, an Arch Patton Adventure
Dec18

Christmas Pueblo, an Arch Patton Adventure

Christmas Pueblo  An Arch Patton Adventure by James Strauss Arch Patton found himself inside the confines of the Santa Fe County jail, on some vague trumped-up barroom brawl charge. He was in the “drunk tank,” which is what they call the cells they use for new prisoner intake. No bars, no windows, just concrete and steel. No way to see out of the ten by twelve box, and no ability to hear. He was alone for the first few hours,...

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