April Short Stories and More
First, let me say that this something I wrote what seems like forever ago, which is to say it’s been a hot minute since I last looked at this or thought much about it.
But I thought I would share what is (in essence) a draft of at least part of the story I wrote. It currently resides with my copyeditor, who can spot excessive wording and other literary faux pas like no one else.
In any case, here’s a temporary cover for the work:
But what I’m going to do is share this work-in-progress bit by bit, because that’s what this is. It’s not a finished product. Not until I get the revisions, decide what to change, and release it to the world as a finished story somewhere.
Habeas Corpus
The moment Carla Addison sat in the guest chair, she began talking. A walk-in client, Ms. Addison was in her early 40s. Her hair, bleached the color and consistency of straw, framed a round face with an open, but frantic, expression. Her clothes, ever-so-slightly rumpled, consisted of dark gray slacks, a slightly worn gray cardigan, and a purple knit shell. She reminded me of my second grade teacher.
“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me this morning,” she said. “I woke up in my hotel room next to a stranger with a knife in his chest. I have no idea who he is or how he got there. That’s why I came to see you, Sam. I need a lawyer.”
No kidding, I thought. “Let’s take this one step at a time,” I said, surreptitiously checking her clothes for bloodstains. “I take it you live out of town.”
“I’m here for a business convention,” she said. “It’s at a hotel in Greenbelt.”
Finding no obvious signs of foul play on the woman, I noted that she also wore no make-up. As if I did. “And how did you hear about me?”
“Just at random. I found you in the phone book.”
Lucky me, I thought.
Carla twisted her hands in her lap, staring at them.
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