by Pat Bove | Jan 23, 2025 | A Short Story
“It’s about damn time,” I said as I opened the top left drawer of my desk and slid the glass lid back. I plucked two cigars—the good ones from the far back. “It’s the small things that make life enjoyable,” I cut my cigar and sat. “Like a humidifier built right into...
by Pat Bove | Jan 17, 2025 | A Short Story
The day he stabbed me, it was my fault. Nobody knew his real name. Not even when I had him arrested. I spent money out of my pocket for a private investigator to find something—anything. But every resource came up empty: no background, no fingerprints, no identity....
by Pat Bove | Jan 16, 2025 | A Short Story
He was cold. A fierce gust of wind, strong enough to best a man with numb fingers and a back raw from twenty fresh lashes, ripped the torch from his hand. His fingers ached as they closed around the hilt of his gladius, cold and steady against his palm. A roar...
