Pillbug Vol. 1

By Warren R. Smith

Join us for Volume 1 of Pillbug. In this book Warren R. Smith trundles down the path of flash fiction and short stories.

Among other anecdotal excursions, you’ll find within; the story of a Taxi driver who must come to terms with the truth depth of his daughter’s independence. Read the Speckled Egg, magic realism wherein two children, in saving their lives, must change shape. In Jack-O’-Lantern and old woman invites herself to be haunted. In Pillbug, the story is about the risks of day labor. In Purple Hippo, a Hippo decides it's time to shake the world up. Jack and the Magpies is written in defense of a worthy appetite.

Contemporary mainstream and humorously literary, you’ll find this collection chock-full of five-minute wisdoms and imagination.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Warren R. Smith
• Release date: Apr 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310718441

Warren R. Smith

Warren R. Smith was born a wrinkled baby. Subsequently, he grew up in the heart of Texas. He enjoys learning new things and travel. Still, he likes just hanging out and eating from a bag of fried okra if there's any in the neighborhood to be had. This is his first collection of flash fiction and short stories. You can follow his continual progress on the next volume at http://www.mylittletheory.com

Book preview

Table of Contents

Introduction

The Red Paint Flaking

English As A 2nd Language

Like Caffeine

Sweet Nothings Individually Wrapped

The Speckled Egg

Troder of the Mish'dee Orb

Dotting Tigers

Jack-O'-Lantern

Candy-Corn Angel

On Religion

Pillbug

A Walking Tour Paused

Purple Hippo

No Man Left Behind

Laundromat

The Last Thing

A Memory Without Name

The Girl With the Sheep

Animal Magic

Jack and the Magpies

About The Author

PILLBUG – VOL. 1

Warren R. Smith

Smashwords Edition Rev. 1.2

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This book is licensed under a

Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

~

Copyright © 2016 Warren R. Smith

ISBN: 9781310718441

Original cover art photo by

Dr. Igor Siwanowicz

~

With love,

Introduction

Yes, it was a crazy season for rabbits. Everywhere they hopped and nibbled — even in the office. Daily I had to sweep them off the desk before I could get a thing done — and I leaned into the task with the whole of my arm and an imprecating grunt because sometimes that’s all there was.

***

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

***

Furthermore: what follows is a loosely knit collection. Don’t hurt yourself looking for anything so reasonable as a sense of continuity. This is not really what I was supposed to be doing at the time.

The Red Paint Flaking

In the old barn loft is something almost remembered. In the faded corn powder and littered straw, boards creaking underfoot, between the rafters and soft dirt below – something. Only it has hidden in the very frame and footprint of the building, red paint flaking outside, rotted tires within, and mouse nests – lots of mouse nest in the air.

Upon bundled lengths of bailing wire and home-fashioned tools on nails hung, rusted (and staining my fingers for looking,) I am turned like the light, deflected and dull, by the stubborn silver corrugated tin above. In the narrow pens and wooden ways, burnished smooth by generations of hide and hand, is in this place stabled in silence, something – that with a lingering stroke over these course dusty shelves I find myself again searching.

English As A 2nd Language

A supply of rubber bands dangled from the column shift of the yellow cab. Simon’s sack lunch and a bundle of business cards lay on the floorboard. Unread mail he wedged beside the meter. A briefcase he kept on the front seat. It was almost enough to make the Crown Victoria feel like his own. But he only rented – for two hundred dollars a day.

The last chance to buy his car was fifteen years behind him already. It was a Checker Cab with 900,000 miles and one of the last of its kind. But the only intrinsic value of the car was in the NYC Cab Driver’s Association medallion, riveted on the hood. Without it, you could not legally pick up street flags. The value of NYC cab medallions increased over the years and were worth now almost a million dollars each. It was roughly equivalent to a million dollars more than he could ever raise.

He turned off the service light on the roof and headed for the suburbs.

At the corner of 5th and Houston, a familiar looking man stepped off the curb with an arm extended and two fingers held high – indicating a short hop. Simon pulled over. Through the rear-view, he watched the man with the long coat climb in the backseat.

Where you headed, Doctor?

Straight ahead just beyond Elm Avenue, please. Is that you Simon? Happy to see you.

It’s been a while. How’s the practice?

Delivered my third baby girl this week. Ha! It’s like birthing angels. From now on you can just call me the holy spirit.

I didn’t know you were religious.

As the day is long, my friend. But tell me how is your daughter getting along?

She’s seventeen going on twenty-one, said Simon. I am on the way to pick her up.

"Special Saturday plans between you two?

Nothing so much like that. I’ve been driving her to and from the tutor on Saturdays since she was thirteen. She’s learning Chinese.

Excellent. You must be quite proud.

"You could say so, doctor. She’s always been single-minded about what she wants and always manages to get her way in the end. I have no idea how at thirteen she got so wrapped up