For the last fifteen or so years I've been living with a bunch of dead guys at a motel in West Texas. Like the characters in my stories, I'd really like to move on, see the world, go places. But I'm just like them. Anchored by love, worn down by circumstances and fascinated by how much there really is underneath it all. So I keep writing their stories and tell myself that someday, when I've got this all out of my system, I'll write deep, meaningful literature about... something else. In the meantime, this is the place for short stories, flash fiction, and scenes from the life inspired by The Bella Vista Motel.
Sunday, July 11, 2010 at 9:05PM This is my first Spoken Sunday post. I wrote this story up fresh for the occasion. Sensitive listeners be warned, this is a horror piece.
A mysterious young woman hitch hikes across the country, carrying an ominous suitcase...
Bella Vista Motel, Noir, Spoken Sunday, horror 