The Persistant Phantom

A Tale of Melody and Malady by Jude Trail “The Persistent Phantom of Frequencies Past”     “In chambers of silence the ghost notes remain, a ceaseless orchestra that none may hear save I; the conductor of phantoms, the maestro of pain.” — From “The Invisible Symphony” by Edwin Haredale     The morning light, …

The Last Decade

    The Last Decade By Jude Trail       Elwood Gunter had been preparing for greatness for twenty-three years, four months, and sixteen days. Not that he was counting, mind you, but a man tends to remember when he starts paying twenty-one dollars and ninety-nine cents a month for something that nobody reads. …

The Great Killer

  The Great Conversation Killer by Jude Trail Sure, I was there the night conversation died. Witnessed the whole execution myself, front row seat to a murder that nobody even knew was happening. It was at Martha Pendleton’s dinner party—one of those affairs where people dress up like they’re somebody important and spend two hours …

Sea of Love

As We Cast Ourselves Onto The Sea of Love Thadd Presley Anyone who talked to, or knew anything about, those who went out onto the sea and over the horizon in search of the elusive dream, must imagine crossing that strange ocean and how it will feel when first they set their feet and plant …

I Can’t Remember

I Can’t Remember   by Jude Trail Frantic urgency pushed his failing memory into action. Who was the young woman in the faded photograph? The pictures were placed strategically to help him remember things and people from his past. Why couldn’t he remember this woman? She was in many of the pictures.For a long moment, …

Still Alive

My dad told my mother that it was not the right time in his life; that everything was happening too fast and he wanted to wait a few more years. So, when she started crying, he knew he had her convinced. They went together. The small office was in a house on South Laughter Street, …

A Turn South

A Turn South by Thadd Presley “She’s worse, Pa,” Maggie said, coming down from the attic, “she won’t even touch the biscuits and I put jelly on ’em special.” Of course, I couldn’t help it. When I heard that Angela wouldn’t eat, I started cryin’ and Pa tore off in a tantrum. After Pa had …