Monthly Archives: March 2020

I started this story a couple of years back and ran out of direction.  I’d appreciate suggestions.  About 4500 words By Jerry Donaldson A rusty, jagged sunrise collected in the east, orange and violent. It was 4:45 am and a new day was barging in. I’d been up half the night, sitting on the backContinue reading “THE RUST BELT”

Chapter 2 .  .  .   Then her right hand dropped limp into her lap and her left slipped gently from his neck to his shoulder.  She reluctantly allowed his lips to leave hers.  He dropped back against the seat cushion, took a deep breath and stared across the crowded cafe. Dazzled, she thought, he’s dazzled! Continue reading “DRAG STRIP DATE”

by Jerry Donaldson about300 words The long, hot slog up to the tiny clearing took us all day.  We arrived just as the sun dropped into the trees. We did our best, like we’d been trained.  Smitty and Gonzales took picket duty.  They sat back to back watching the tree line, M-16s ready and spareContinue reading “THE BEACON”

by Jerry Donaldson 499 words (I wrote this in 2015.  It’s riff on the Lulu Lemon thing that was in the news a couple of years back) “Who?” “It’s Gertie.” “Sorry, say that again?” “Leonard, it’s Gertie, dammit! Give your head a shake, man.” “Gertie, it’s–wait a sec—it’s 3:30 in the morning. I’m sleeping.” “NotContinue reading “It’s Gertie, Dammit!”

by Jerry Donaldson 1,200 words On Tuesday morning at 10 a.m.  Al Crawford had his dog put down at the Hillside Veterinary Clinic.  Nearly 15 years old, Charlie was blind, arthritic and worn-out.  Al paid his bill and left. Charlie’s had been a good life. Dogs usually die before their owners.  Some men might outliveContinue reading “PARALLAX”

by Jerry Donaldson 501 words In the large, well-appointed boardroom of the Hackman Tobacco Company, way up there on the 45th floor, it was 1965.  The Smallest Ad Man slipped in and gently closed the door behind him.  The nine men sitting around the boardroom table watched him.

by Jerry Donaldson 493 words On the Super Constellation from Tokyo I was seated in non-smoking. As soon as I hit the tarmac at O’Hare I lit up a cigarette. Inside the terminal I lit another from the butt of the first. The immigration officer told me to put it out.

by Jerry Donaldson (about 775 words) My name is Jimmy MacDougall and I’ve lived here on the cay all my life.  I make my living doing this and that around the wharves over in Jamestown.  Mend nets, mend sails, do a little boat building, a little fishing.  And I do salvage.

  by Jerry Donaldson “Terminal A” was originally a one-shot story based on my time at the Post Office.  But friends asked for more, so I will continue to add chapters from time to time Chapter 1 At the age of 16 I got my first real job.  I became a part-time mail handler atContinue reading “TERMINAL A chapter 1”

By Jerry Donaldson 500 words In the summer of 1981 he lived in a tiny loft at the boatworks and life was perfect.  High up in the big boat shed, right out over the water, he had one room with a bathroom.  On warm June nights he could hear the sea lions barking from theContinue reading “IN THE BOAT SHED”