When you earn money through your writing skills, writer’s block can frustrate you more than almost anything else. Fortunately, you can kick that writer’s block out of town. [Read more…]
A voice cried out in the darkness.
“Bring me the boy! Only then will you have your debt repaid.”
The voice left Lonnergan standing on the bank, stranded with a revolver and a Polaroid. The only noise in the air was the sloshing of a paddle in the water.
A minute or so passed with just the lapping of the river fading, and then the moon emerged from hiding as if sensing that the boat had passed from view. Newly illuminated, Lonnergan looked at his only possessions.
The gun was heavy. And new, it appeared. He didn’t know much about guns.
He knew enough about boys to know that the photograph wasn’t of one. The woman in the picture had the look of someone that was just barely okay, that just a push would cause her to become unhinged. Terrified, even.
Lonnergan pocketed both objects. It was too bad that he was going to be the one to push her, he thought.