Two Wheeled Tales

The sun was a spoiled lemon drowning itself at the soiled surface of the sea. The waves swept forward and flowed back, with hushed sounds like giggling girls playing with a stranger’s shadow. I wiped the sweat on my forehead, fixing my hat to avoid the twisted rays of the dying lemon-sun. A strange taste […]

It’s better if you don’t know my name.Better for you, and certainly better for me.I’m the person you hear about on the news sometimes, or read about in the newspapers.I’m probably one of the most wanted people in America.Wanted by State and local Police Forces, the FBI, hell the CIA and the NSA for all

“Cheeky bugger!” Tinker growled, fighting to control the wobble occasioned by a close encounter of the fast kind. A taillight rapidly diminished into the night, but Tinker had already dropped a cog and given pursuit. He’d been on the way back from ‘Rockers’ Reunion’ in Reading, humming the old songs, dawdling along the M4 at

The stars zipped past me as I lay still in the desert sand. It was 1954 and I tried to make sense of where I was and where I was heading. The moon laughed and then turned his black & white face to gawk at the comets chasing me. This was the most bizarre night

Bandit,What “Flash Fiction Department” you ask? Ultra short stories. Well, I thought it would offer your short-attention- span readers something they can handle in a pinch. Especially if you add a hot young lady photo to go with it. I can write you a series of these highly digestible Chinese-food stories. Whatya think? Here it

Click to see morefrom Lucky Devil Photos by RFRFour hours on the road and I finally reached Snake Valley. I haven’t had anything to eat all afternoon and I ignored the ‘AllYouCanEat’ sign at the local diner heading straight for Lukes Cavern. It’s the seediest bar in town and had all that folks like me

For So Many YearsI Was Lost SomewhereIn Between The Grease And GearsNot Sure Which End Was UpThe Whole Time Pushing My LuckThe First To ComeAnd The Last To LeaveI Crowned Myself TheLife Of The Never Ending PartyWhile Others Used SpoonsTo Get Their FixI Used A Snow Shovel‚To Nab My KicksChasing DeathAnd Gaining On It FastTo

About two months ago, one of my riding buddies suggested a ride through Death Valley. Was he serious?! Death Valley; where the rocks seem to come alive as the shadows from the ever-present sun play tricks on your eyes. Death Valley; where men have lost their fortunes, their sanity and their very lives. Death Valley;

There was the squealing of tires that Ray though must sound much the way apig might squeal at the moment of slaughter. The white car veered out ofcontrol, slicing across the next vacant lane and directly into the path ofa road hazard sign. The Nova lived up to its namesake becoming a fireballof twisting metal.

Friday night, 9 o’clock, downtown Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Corner brick bar, three days before Christmas. Some 60 years of coal dust had robbed the ceramic stone of its color and replaced it with flat black. Two Shovelheads were parked at the curb. A drizzling rain formed a puddle on the solo seat of one of the

Jake woke with a prison-cell start and rolled toward Jennifer. Her naked body, covered partially by a thin sheet and tumbles of dense auburn hair, shimmered with youthfulness and seduction. Her shape was a perfect hourglass turned on its side. She did something with time that was distant to him. He couldn’t figure her out.

This story is true. The names and exact locations have been changed to protect the innocent—or guilty—depending upon your personal ideas of justice. It must be considered that this event took place in 1979…things were different then.It was springtime and the sky was deep blue and cloudless as the Superglide pounded its fateful rhythm against

Illustration by Chris Kallas.The judge banged the gavel and ordered the bailiff to shove in the next bunch of misfits. I faced 10 years for an accident deemed involuntary manslaughter along with perjury for claiming the girl wasn’t riding with me. She was riding with me.I had hoped to avoid trouble for her but Sheriff

Last year at this time I was pretty much doing the same thing I am now. Working every day trying to balance the bills, the family, the gym, writing, and getting in the occasional joy ride rather than just commuting back and forth to and from work. I really had no idea I would be

Ace sat at a booth near the back of the bar and sipped his beer. The Midnite Club, a private club in the French quarter of New Orleans, was where he liked to go when he had to lay low. Right now, Ace was laying lower than a snake’s belly, at least until the heat

Slender ChancePart Two Fiction by A. Carney Allen Under escort a weary, begrimed figure was shown into the presence of General Vamero at the San Luis barracks. “From Las Palmas,” gasped Terry Devine, and handed across Don Isidore Pancha’s signed order. “Rebels-President-help–“ Minutes later General Vamero was preparing to lead a body of something like

Sticky shards of beer bottle splashed against his face as Harrison rolled in the soiled sawdust to escape a worn, pointed cowboy boot. His troubled mind whirled. What was he doing diving towards the cigarette butt-strewn deck of the cowboy bar anyway? Less than a half hour before he pulled his ’78 Shovelhead up to