Racqueteering

By John Mahoney Therese Masters cursed, abandoning a fifth attempt to call Sally, then tossed her smartphone into her black Nike-brand gym bag. “Just keep leaving me hanging,” she grumbled, squatting to zip the bag, before slinging it over a shoulder and using her other hand to grab her rented racquet from the polished floorContinue reading “Racqueteering”

Hit 50

by Chris Bunton I was locked up in Menard prison, at the medium security joint on the hill; serving time for stabbing a guy in a bar fight, when I got a letter from my cousin in Chicago.The letter read:  “Hey cuz, How are you?  Things are going good up here. Just working and stayingContinue reading “Hit 50”