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Blog Post #107: Dead on Arrival

Glaring at Trever, Fedler pounded a table and leaned over it, and Simmons smashed a cigarette butt into an ashtray

Officer Riley’s face reddened. “Nicholas, does it look like we’re here to play games?” Nicholas peered at Officer Riley and

“Blood steaking down his brow, Arthur hobbled across an overgrown lawn, up a woodpile that once served as a front

A woman ambled through a double-swinging door, past a poker playing, rum guzzling, squint-eyed laughing men, and to a bar

‘Happy Birthday, Ol’ Sport!’ Phillip Edwin said into a looking glass, and, all but at once, his reflection beamed!