A new issue of Word Catalyst is out. A snippet and a link for my column:
Joe pushed his fedora back off his forehead and his hand lingered, fingers wrestling with strands of hair. The newsstand was a busy place with people pushing and shoving behind him on the crowded sidewalk. It was hard to take the time to peruse the glossy covers in the rack. One old lady banged his ankle with her cane as she passed.
"Find anything?" Smitty, the proprietor asked. Obviously, he was anxious for Joe to make up his mind, pay and go to make room for more customers.
"No!" He growled the response. Smitty had a point though. Franklin could show up. That's the last thing he needed, his worst enemy confronting him smack dab on Fifth Avenue. His eyes scanned the rack again. Esquire, GQ, Newsweek. Truth be told, he didn't have much interest in news magazines. He picked up Esquire, handed a couple bills to Smitty and took off.
Scanning the sidewalk, his quickened pace indicated a man in a hurry, long stride after long stride taking him home. What a hell of a way to live, always looking over your shoulder. But Franklin wanted him dead. Read more.