hitwheelsnep 
It started on a cold March morning. I opened my door to find a small bouquet of wildflowers tied with twine, resting delicately on my porch. A note lay on top, handwritten in careful cursive: “For the one who needs them most.” I froze, unsure whether to laugh or panic. I didn’t know anyone in … Read more
Miss Sarah, a dedicated third-grade teacher, was at her classroom window erasing the chalkboard when she first saw him. He was a mountain of a man parked on a massive, custom chopper. He wore a heavy leather cut heavily decorated with patches, faded denim, and heavy steel-toed boots. A thick, unruly beard hid most of … Read more
The airport was loud. Announcements echoed. People rushed past with luggage. Phones buzzed. At Gate 23, passengers were already lining up to board. That’s when he walked in. A biker. Leather vest. Heavy boots. Tattoos on his arms. Helmet in hand. He didn’t fit in. Not here. Not among business travelers and families heading on … Read more
The church was quiet. People sat in black clothes, heads down, listening to the pastor speak. At the front, a young man’s photo stood beside his casket. He had died a few days earlier. Everyone believed it was a car accident. His mother sat in the front row, holding a tissue, trying not to break … Read more
The scent of chain grease, sun-baked leather, and ninety-octane fuel will forever be the scent of my childhood. I didn’t know it then, of course. To me, it was just Dad. It was a Saturday. The air in the garage was thick, humid, and heavy with the promise of summer rain. In the center of … Read more
The heavy manila envelope hit the Formica counter with a muffled thud, right between the salt shaker and the napkin dispenser. I didn’t look up, not immediately. I was tracing a coffee stain on my apron, pretending the monstrous presence looming three feet away was invisible. The smell hit me first: old leather, stale cigarette … Read more
The stool next to me didn’t just rattle; it groaned under the sudden arrival of a mountain. A black leather jacket, thick with dust from the highway and the smell of ancient tobacco, occupied my peripheral vision. I didn’t want to look. This was “The Rusty Nail,” a hole-in-the-wall diner five miles outside of Blackwood, … Read more
“Sign the petition, Elias. We’re doing this before dusk.” Evelyn standard, my seventy-two-year-old neighbor with a spine made of iron and a tongue that cut like a filet knife, shoved a plastic clipboard under my nose. We were standing on my driveway in the late afternoon heat of the Magnolia Estates cul-de-sac. Magnolia Estates was … Read more
“What are you waiting for, princess? Kick it! HARDER!” The voice wasn’t gentle. It was a guttural rumble that seemed to vibrate directly through the heat-baked pavement of my suburban driveway. My seven-year-old daughter, Lily, screwed up her face, her ponytail a mess of escaped strands sticking to her forehead. She put all twenty-five pounds … Read more
“What are you looking at, sweet pea? You look like you just saw a ghost who owed you money.” The voice cut through the monotonous drumming of rain on the aluminum overhang of ‘Sal’s Surplus,’ jerking me out of the numb stupor I’d been trapped in. I blinked, and the blurred world in front of … Read more