Short stories written by J. Brandon Lowry
“I can’t believe I’m going through with this.” Ben had gone to his first drag show back in college. It was eye opening. He wasn’t attracted to the performers in a sexual way; rather, he was in awe of the performers’ unfaltering confidence. It was, in it’s own way, incredibly macho.
She leans in, her plump red lips pursed provocatively, and that’s when I smell it. Midnight Rose. I’m looking deep into those emerald eyes, those hungry lioness eyes, and I know who I’m looking at. READ MORE…
I need the interior painted, he says, but he’s only showing me the exterior. He swipes again, and now I’m looking at something out of a goddamn horror movie… For some things, it’s hard to remember how you got started. This ain’t like that. READ MORE
“This, Miss Macy, is a rainbow trout. They live in the rivers around here. These are the ones we’re gonna catch tomorrow. Hopefully,” he added, winking. “That’s the thing about fishin’; just ’cause you go out meanin’ to catch a fish don’t mean you will.” – READ MORE
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” thought Ted, sulking. The world had finally ended, just like he had always known it would, and he was stuck with the only three people on Earth incapable of taking it seriously.
There was no sensation of motion; the coffin simply got smaller and smaller. This isn’t right, Henry thought. I’m supposed to be going into the light, not away from it…
[…] BUFF crews had been reporting encounters with Soviet interceptors. It had started with tailing at a distance, then escalated to being buzzed at close range…
Anthony‘s head nodded gently as he cruised down the street. The slow, soft notes of the piano drifted gently through the air. Before long, the tempo would take off and the pace would become frenetic, but this was the beginning, a time to relax and settle in for the ride to come.
“He arrived at the multicolored tangle of boys and girls just in time to watch the ball go flying out toward the red goal. Panting hard, he stopped to watch the others go after it again. This was not a new experience for Jace; he was almost always last to the ball, and on the rare occasion when he did get near it, his first instinct was to simply kick it as hard as he could.”
In which a certain familiar Millennial is faced with one of the unpleasant realities of getting older
J. Brandon Lowry 