Randomness

Posted by Ami

These are random thoughts I wrote out and then left: As a writer there are somewhere around three million thoughts streaming into your brain at the speed of light all the time unless you are sleeping…

Lasting Legacy:

What if you knew that the last image of you in death, like Elvis sitting on the toilet seat, would be seen by everyone? Would it make you live your life differently if you knew at the very last breath that everyone would know who you are, what you were in life, see a clear picture, see a picture of you, dead, reduced to an inanimate corpse. No magic. You can’t fly. You didn’t miss the bullet. You are no longer a star, bigger than life, you died, just like everyone else. And all the things you covered up during that lifetime, all the times when you could have bent, changed, helped, are gone. And everybody knows what you did and didn’t do. Would it change you? Would it mean anything to you to know that, or would you continue to be the person you are right now? (I went searching for a picture of Elvis. I found a picture of Elvis dead, sitting on the toilet. I was sort of shocked. I felt as though it made who he was kind of small. In the end there he was, dead, sitting on his toilet.)…

Coffee:

Did you know there are places in this world where people start their day without coffee? Like a refugee. A refugee doesn’t get the chance to have coffee in the morning. If I was a refugee I’d be like, “Hold your ass! I’m having my coffee here! You rebels are starting to piss me off!” (One of those mornings, any morning really, when I have to do things before I have had my coffee.)…

The Litter box zone:

If you have a cat you have a litter box, unless you’re one of those aliens that teach their cats to use the toilet (They’re probably alien cats. I tried to teach mine and it nearly drowned… Twice). We scoop cat crap, get embarrassed when our friends come over and the cat suddenly decides that fancy fish dinner has settled enough and blows up the house, but if your friend Bob came over, walked into the corner of one of your rooms and took a crap, and then threw some sand over it, would that be okay?

“Whew,” says Bob as you are trying to decide what in hell just happened. “That fancy fish dinner had to go.”

Of course it wouldn’t be okay, so why do we allow cats to do the very same thing and then calmly take a scoop and cover it or remove it? And what about litter that absorbs odor? Doesn’t work. You could blindfold me, walk me around my house and I guarantee I could tell you when I hit the liter box zone. “Yep… Right here. Smells like wet sand/clay and cat sh*t,” I would say. (Do you have a cat? Enough said then.)…

Bad ideas:

Cat Trials: To determine whether cats truly do have nine lives.

Closed after one test… No, Cats do not have nine lives.

Excuses for why the cat is gone.

It was past it’s expiration date so I had to chuck it.

There was a terrible showdown between the cat and three mice. I think the mice were carrying knives. It was bad. Yes, they may have been blind mice, but they were friggin’ mean blind mice.

I traded that cat for a Volkswagen

What cat? We had a cat?

Other Cat Stuff…

Used cats: You never see ads for used cats, you know, “Gently used cat. Very low miles. Will trade for good dog, beaver or camping tent.”

One of the things I have against cats: They have fur all over them, and since I am in denial about having evolved from some sort of monkey or other animal, it bothers me to know they may rise and take over the world some day. Funny? I’ll bet that’s what the other monkeys thought about 25,000 years ago when Bob the different monkey shocked them all by fixing a hamburger and fries for dinner instead of insects and grass.

Whistling: If you whistle to a dog they’re coming. He or she will be right there. Whistle to a cat and they may flip you off, but they’re not coming.

Things you never hear… “Brother, can you spare a cat?”

Famous Quotes:

“Give a man a potato he can eat for a day. Teach a man how to grow a potato and a cat will probably come along, dig up his garden and crap in it.”

Things I have not seen:

Three legged cats. Cats with their suitcases packed (Do they have suitcases?). Cats with a drivers license. Talking cats. Unpretentious cats.

From a real Social Website Commentary

The following conversation contains bad remarks about cats and cat like creatures. If bad remarks about cats or cat like creatures offend you, you should not read this. Also, no cats were harmed in the making of this commentary, nor do any of the participants wish any cats to be harmed for any reason… Except the ones trying to take over the world…

(The conversation started in response to an Article about Cat Allergies)…

Geo Dell: I am not going to read it. I don’t want to learn how to get along with cats… Here’s my theory of how cat allergies happen. I think the ACD Gene detects their presence and alerts you. Of course we should pay attention, but we don’t. I also have another theory. There is a pheromone cats send out. This enters the brain through our olfactory organs and then is, unfortunately, absorbed into the blood stream. Suddenly, usually within hours, you find yourself liking cats. WHAT? you think, How in heck did that happen? Easy, that pheromone carried a destructive gene sequence that attacked and overcame the ACD gene. After that contaminated people are screwed. Those people will continue to like cats, and, unfortunately again, the cats will take over the world and make us their enslaved race of human pets… Or… When the ‘Fridge is empty… Pet Food…

(Name Changed for protection): I had a dream like that once where cats had taken over the world and people had to worship them or be killed. lol

Geo Dell: True, sad, but true. It will happen. It’s inevitable…

Geo Dell: Oh… ACD = A**hole Cat Detector

Geo Dell: Reasons to not like cats… They used to be ten feet tall at the shoulder… They used to catch us and take us back for the kits to chase around and learn to hunt… They are only tolerant of us… THEY WANT TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!

Geo Dell: Every year thousands of people die in their homes and are eaten by cats. You never hear of cats dying in their homes and being eaten by us, do you?

(Name Changed for protection): lol

Geo Dell: Old people are forced to eat dog food. Well, cats are cheaper.

(Name Changed for protection): Hey, I think people forget they are living with animals. if you die, they will eat you. You’re meat at that point

Geo Dell: Yes, but I believe cats have secretly learned how to use the phone and call their friends over. Sort of like a… Fancy Feast

(Name Changed for protection): “Hey Oscar, this is Simon, my food supply died. you wanna come over and help me eat him? Tell whiskers and the crew that dinner’s on me this weekend.”

Geo Dell: Exactly. Now you are thinking. Rise up! Rise up, I say. And… Uh, well, I really don’t have a plan, but I would say start installing video cameras, keep track of these cats, especially the radical Pink Panther cats. And then, well, we’ll do something. Start a revolution or something. Sit around smoke pot, drink and say really deep things that nobody remembers the next day. At least that’s the way it was in the Seventies when we used to talk about revolution…

(Name Changed for protection): lol…

Okay, enough foolishness…

On other fronts….

I don’t know why I should be surprised when Monday shows up and I am no further ahead to catching up on things than I was the week before. Yet every Monday here I am, surprised again. And that would be funny except it’s true, which sort of makes it even funnier.

There was progress last week of course, just not as much as I would like to see. I always want mega progress, the whole board wiped clean, and of course that is not going to happen because as the board empties on one end it fills on the other. That is life for most of us I would bet.

The fifth Earth’s Survivors book Plague, the last book for the series until next year (maybe).

Free Preview and links: https://books.apple.com/us/book/earths-survivors-plague/id1015630497

This blog is where you will find information from me every Monday. Dell will do informational blogs as well, usually on Fridays or the weekend. Ami will do blogs throughout the week and load blogs for others.

That’s it for this Monday. I hope your week was a good one, I’ll be back next week, Geo Dell

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White Trash is available at Google Play

WHITE TRASH

By Dell Sweet

Copyright © 2018 by Dell Sweet

PUBLISHED BY: Dell Sweet; all rights reserved

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

LEGAL

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

This novel is Copyright © 2018 Dell Sweet. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the authors permission. All rights are retained by the Author.

Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.

Cover art Copyright © 2018 Dell Sweet

WHITE TRASH

Copyright 2018 Dell Sweet, all rights Reserved


Saturday morning

“Last one,” Sammy said.

It was 2:00 AM and they had just come back from 6 hours of sleep to get a jump on the day. The last half hour they had been interviewing the people who worked the same shifts as April Evans.

“Candace loi,” Sammy added.

Don looked up and stopped writing in his little notebook.  “How do you,” spell her name, he had meant to ask Sammy, but she was right in front of him.

“EL. OH. EYE,” she said with a smile.

“Vietnamese?” Don asked. She was obviously mixed race, African American and Asian, he questioned himself.

“Japanese,” she told him.

“Nice name,” Sammy said, “Candace.”

Beautiful girl, Don thought. “Did you know April Evans?  Sometimes works this shift?” he asked.

“Not really,” she answered. “I mean I met her, but only in passing… I just started here myself.”

She really was beautiful, Don thought. “You wouldn’t know if she had a boyfriend… Other friends?” he asked.

Candace shook her head. “Sorry,” she said… “What has she done?”

“Nothing: She’s gone missing,” Sammy supplied.

“She was an eye witness to a serious case and then went missing,” Don said. “She’s not in trouble we just want to ask her a few questions… And, really make sure she’s okay.”

Candace shook her head. “I just started here a few weeks back, and like I said, I don’t really know her… but I heard it might be a girlfriend not a boyfriend though.”

Don looked at her. “You wouldn’t know who?”

“No. It’s just a rumor. Someone said to me… I don’t even remember who… but I’ve never seen her with a guy. And I have seen her with other girls… Maybe also the way she looked at me a few times… That’s all I know. I hope you find her though. She seems like a nice girl,” Candace said.

“You don’t seem the type for this… Bagging groceries at 2:00 am,” Don said.

Candace laughed. “I had this idea of dancing… Tough to get a foot in a door though.”

“Any good,” Sammy asked.

“Excuse mister smooth there,” Don told her. Sammy feigned a hurt look and Candace laughed. “He meant have you done some dancing? I know somebody… Might be interested.”

Candace arched her eyebrows. “I can dance. I just need to prove it to the right person.”

“Probably start out serving drinks… Dance a little… Then if he likes you he’ll put you in.”

“I can do that,” she said slowly.

Sammy passed her a white business card with his own name scrawled across the back. “Tell him I sent you… That’s my name on the back.”

“Jimmy Vincioni,” Candace asked.

“Just V… Jimmy V. Good guy,” Sammy said.

Candace nodded and tucked the card into her front jean pocket. “I’ll call him… Thanks. Look…” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “I’m pretty sure she had a girlfriend here… I just don’t know who,” Candace added quietly.

Don finished writing in his notebook, nodded once he met her eyes and then shook the hand she offered. She walked away.

“Beautiful,” Sammy said.

“Absolutely,” Don agreed. “You ain’t getting none of that though.”

“Yeah? Well if Jimmy V hires her? It’ll be the next best thing.”

Don shook his head, but smiled. His eyes rose and watched as Candace walked away. “Guess I’ll have to have a few drinks at the club if that happens.”

Sammy chuckled low. “You and me both,” he agreed.

They had spent most of the previous night at David Cross’s trailer. The techs hadn’t picked up much, but what they had picked up was telling. Blood stains under the bed and beside one wall in the bedroom. A splatter of small pink stains that had tested positive for blood in the kitchen sink. Two rolled up socks drenched in blood in the kitchen garbage. Blood spatters in the bathroom sink too. All his clothes seemed to be gone, or at least there were none in the battered dresser in the bedroom. The forensic team had come up with two sets of fingerprints in the bedroom, his and someone else. Hair samples from the bed, from the couch in the living room. Foot prints out back and in the soft dirt of the front yard. And best of all, a tech that had been sent back to get pictures put the girl in the trailer yesterday afternoon.

The tech said the girl had seemed quiet, subdued, standing behind Cross, like Cross didn’t want her to be seen.

Questioning her friends was fill-in work while they waited on the warrant for her place. The tech that had put her at Cross’s trailer would probably clinch that. There had been bits of bone and brain matter along with the bloodstains under the bed and by the wall too. That bothered Don. It probably meant that something had happened. He didn’t have a lot of hope of seeing April Evans alive again.

He circled the word gay that he had written on his note pad.  Maybe he had been asking the wrong questions.

“This girl,” Don said and underlined the name Alice Chambers in his notebook. “Knew her well. Or at least better than anyone else here. Why didn’t she mention a possible lesbian thing?”

“They were in high school together… She’s still here, maybe we should have a conversation with her again?” Sammy said.

“Maybe,” Don agreed. He looked up, spotted the girl working one of the checkouts and walked over to the manager; a young kid who didn’t even look old enough to shave yet. The manager himself went over and relieved her and sent her over to Don and Sammy.

It was clear as she made her way over to them that she was worried. “You be the bad guy,” Don whispered to Sammy, “I’ll be the understanding father figure.” Sammy nodded almost imperceptibly.

Alice Chambers smiled weakly as she walked up. Sammy scowled at her and her smile melted.

“Don’t worry,” Don said. “I’m sure we’ll get this cleared right up. Sit down, Alice.”

“Why is he so upset?” she asked looking at Sammy who continued to scowl. 

“Because I don’t like being lied too, missy,” Sammy told her.  “Pisses me off.”

“I didn’t lie,” Alice said, going on the defensive. 

“Yes you did,” Sammy said, as he leaned toward her across the table. “You lied, and now you’re lying about having lied.”

She cringed away from him, looking ready to cry.

“Alice, I’m sure Sam here will be fine,” Don told her. “We work around hardened criminals all the time. I guess he forgot you’re a young lady, not a criminal.” Don sent Sammy a potent stare, and Sammy sighed and turned away. “It’s this lesbian thing… It’s understandable that you wouldn’t want to mention it, but this girl’s life could be at stake…” He made eye contact with her and made her hold it. Her eyes filled up and began to overflow. “Alice?” Don asked. She looked back toward the front of the store where she had been working and then looked back at them, swiping at the tears with the back of her hand and she did. “You want to tell me?”Don asked. She nodded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She took a few seconds, seeming to fight to gain control. Don left and came back with some tissues that he handed to her. She thanked him, blew her nose, and then took several deep breaths.

Don mentally looked her over as she got herself under control. Alice Chambers was on the skinny side. Almost no breasts. A body like a boy, no hips, short, bobbed blonde hair. Nose ring, tongue ring, probably a dozen other piercings in her ears and who knew where else. He had taken her look for punk, not gay, but now that he was really looking at her she seemed more boyish than girlish. It seemed like maybe it was more than just a subtle statement, and he had overlooked it: Seen it wrong. It wasn’t just that she didn’t look all that attractive as a woman, she just looked more like a boy. And it looked like most of it was by choice.

“We were together in high school,” Alice said in a near whisper.

Don nodded like he’d known it all along. “Here at work too?” he asked.

“No… Of course not. April isn’t… April’s not… She likes boys…  It was… It was just a thing for a little while… This guy…” She took a deep breath and swiped at her eyes. “This guy forced her, you know and so she stayed away from guys after that for awhile.” She focused on Don, refusing to look at Sammy.

“This guy… Know his name? The one who raped her?” Don asked.

“She didn’t say raped, she said forced,” Alice corrected.

“Okay, forced… but you can see, Alice, that even if you don’t say it’s rape, it’s still rape, right? Are you saying there was no intercourse?” Don asked.

“No… There was,” she admitted.

“Then its rape, Alice. Let’s not cut the guy any slack at all on that, okay?” Don asked.

“Okay,” Alice agreed.

“So, his name?”

“He’s dead,” Alice said. “Tyler Matthews. Died in a car crash a few months back, remember?”

“Yeah… The local football star,” Sammy said.

Don just nodded. “So it was just the two of you. What came between you?” he asked.

“I told you, guys. She’s not like me,” she looked down at the table and then back up. “But I don’t know this David. I never heard her say anything about him. Maybe a cute guy that lived at the end of the road. And two guys on either side of the trailer who have been bothering her,” Alice said.

Sometimes you failed to ask the right questions, Don thought.  Sometimes the answers were right there. “Okay… Tell me about this cute guy who lived at the end of the road? You mean the trailer park road or Lott road?” he asked.

“Lott road. I don’t know about him. She said she saw him a few times. She thought he was cute, but she couldn’t get him to notice her,” Alice said. She blew her nose once more. The tears seemed to be dried up, Don thought: At least for now.

“Anything else about him… Anything at all?” Don asked.

“She said he worked nights… Drove a truck back and forth to work… That’s all I know, honest,” she looked over at Sammy who nodded. Done with his bad cop routine.

“Did you know David Cross at all… I can’t remember if I asked you that before,” Don said. He knew he had asked her; he simply wanted her to answer again.

“No,” Alice said.

“Didn’t know he lived at the end of Lott road… All the way at the end?” don asked.

She looked surprised. “No. I didn’t know that. I guess that means it was him she thought was cute… Did he do something to her…? Is that it? Did he?” her voice rose slightly and panic crept into it.

“I don’t know… I certainly hope not, Alice, but I don’t know,” Don said. “He’s a bad guy though… I can tell you that. Did time… If there’s any other thing you remember I could use the help. He may have done something to her… We just don’t know yet,” Don finished. Actually he was pretty sure that David Cross had killed April Evans in the back bedroom of the trailer at the end of Lott road that he called home: All, but positive.

She looked at him and her eyes began to spill over again. “I couldn’t stand that,” Alice whispered. “I couldn’t.”

He nodded. “You want me to talk to your boss, get you the rest of the day off, Alice?” Don asked.

“No, no,” she said. “I think I’ll go have a cigarette… Then I’ll be fine.”

“You know, I was thinking of having one too,” Don said. He reached out and took her hand and she came to her feet, “Come on.” He made his way to the front door taking her with him. Everyone in the store watched them walk out. The manager raised his hands slightly and looked at Sammy.

Sammy made a calm-down gesture with both hands. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s fine.”


Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=VyKzDwAAQBAJ


BLACKNESS OF THE SOUL

“I know… You know, Paul, people sometimes think I don’t listen to prayer anymore… If I ever did. They tell themselves that and then they begin to believe it. I do listen though. I do. Every prayer. Every time. Do you believe that, Paul?”

Blackness Of The Soul

This material is copyright protected. It has not been edited for content. This material can not be used without the express permission of Wendell Sweet or his Assignee.


Paul Brown settled the barrel of the nine Millimeter pistol against his left palm, curled his hand around it as if to hold it forever, and then released it finger by finger. A sob escaped his throat and a fat tear drop rolled down his left cheek and splashed against the butt of the pistols grip where the clip protruded slightly. He took his free hand, wiped the tear away and then reached for the beer that sat beside him.

He raised the can to his mouth, drank deeply, and then continued to stare at the black pistol that rested in his right hand. Once again his left hand closed around the barrel, but lightly. Stroking it. Caressing it. He fished a cigarette from the pack beside him on the floor, thumbed the wheel of his old Zippo and pulled the harsh tobacco smoke into his lungs.

The smoke, or the beer, or both seemed to calm him, at least momentarily. His chest hitched but he stifled the sob this time. The sobs frightened him more than the gun. The sobs came on their own and there seemed to be no way to fight or stop them. They were a life unto themselves. The gun on the other hand only had to speak once. And technically he would never hear it.

“Probably never hear it,” he whispered into the semi darkness of the living room. He had pulled the curtains on the outside world. Blocked it away from him.

Probably never hear it. He wondered about the truth of the statement for what seemed to be an excessive amount of time to him, caught himself, and took another deep drink of the cold beer followed by a near frenzied pull from the cigarette. He waited on the sob but it came when he didn’t expect it. A flood of tears came with it, falling from his eyes, staining his reddened cheeks before he could think to try and stop it.

“Oh, God,” he moaned. He sucked in a deep breath, lifted the pistol to his mouth and bumped the barrel across his teeth and into his mouth.

Everything seemed to freeze. The taste of oiled metal flooded his mouth He gagged, and then nearly squeezed the trigger too hard because of it. Panicked, he ripped the gun from his mouth tearing open his upper lip on the gun site as he did.

He was breathing hard. He needed to calm down. The tears just continued to fall. His cheeks felt raw. His eyes full of sand. His head began to pound harder. It had begun to pound earlier. He thought about that too. No more headaches. None. No more worries. No more anything at all. He sighed and returned the gun to his lips. He could taste the oil and metal once more, mixed with the blood from the torn lip.

His lips did not seem to want to part. He eased the gun away, took a deep drag off the cigarette, his breath shuddered in and out. He tipped the can and took a deep drink to rinse his mouth of the tastes that had made him gag, then upended the can and drained it. He reached over and pulled another beer from the bag on the carpeted floor, took another deep drink to rinse the tastes from his mouth and then lit a new cigarette from the butt of the old one. He dropped the old butt into the freshly emptied can beside him. He pulled the smoke deeply into his lungs and then let it drift from his nose as he slowly exhaled, trying to calm himself. If he could only think this out, his mind jabbered. He took another deep drink from the can.

In a way it would be nice to sit down and think this through, but in another way he didn’t care if he ever had another thought in his life. He didn’t want to take the time to think it out at all. He had made up his mind earlier. In a few minutes, when he finished the cigarette and the beer he’d do it, he decided.

He didn’t want to die with a lit cigarette in his mouth and burn down the house. Anne had to live here… Well, maybe not, but even so she’d have to sell it or something… If she didn’t lose it…

He pulled hard on the cigarette as if rushing it to its end so he could rush his own end. He took a deep drink from the beer and felt the headache ease back a little.

He could feel the buzz from the beer. Maybe it would knock down the headache after all. Either way the headache was not long for this world, he decided.

Calm seemed to come over him all at once. The sob that he had been waiting for didn’t come. His chest didn’t hitch. His cheeks still felt irritated, his eyes full of sand, his mind weary and removed from him to a degree, but the hysteria he had been sure was going to grab him didn’t make another appearance.

Through the curtains he could see the late afternoon sunlight. Still gold in the sky. Heating up his part of the south. There was no noise except the steady rumble of the air conditioner. Whatever heat the sun held was lost on him today.

He pulled on the cigarette, noticed that it was all but dead and dropped it into the can with the last one. He upended the beer can and drained it. He waited, expecting the sobs to come back but the calm remained. He sighed once, was surprised to find that the gun was only inches from his lips, opened his mouth and slid the barrel in. The hysteria stayed at bay. He adjusted the barrel so it would be more comfortable, sighed at the absurdity of that thought, and then squinted his eyes down as his finger tightened on the trigger.

~2~

“How do you feel, Paul?”

Paul blinked and tried to look around him. He found that it was not entirely possible. He couldn’t really turn around to where the voice had come from no matter how he tried.

“It doesn’t matter though,” the same voice said.

And it didn’t. It became completely unimportant right then. Just like that.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m pretty upset. I…” He stopped. He had been pretty upset, but he wasn’t now. Now he felt… Well, at peace.

“That’s good, Paul. You should feel at peace.”

“It feels good,” he said. It seemed entirely normal that whoever was behind him could read his mind… Am I dead?

“I wanted to talk to you about how you got here, Paul.”

“How?”

“How.”

The time spun out.

“I stole about… I guess I don’t even know how much… I kept stealing and it kept adding up. And I knew they’d catch it… And they did… My boss must have called the cops,“ Paul said.

“Actually the company accountant… But I meant how you got here… To this point.”

“I… … I don’t know what you mean.”

“To kill yourself, Paul. I mean how did you get to this point where you decided to kill yourself… Take your own life… How did you reach that point, Paul?”

“Oh… I thought about it… I…” He stopped and thought about it. “I see… It’s just tough to understand… I don’t really know exactly… Are you God?”

“Do you think of me as God?”

Paul thought about it. “I think I do… I think so… I believe you are God.”

“Then I am.”

“You are? … Really? You really are God?”

“I really am, Paul…”

His voice was soft. Reassuring.

“I… I thought you would sound different… I… Am I dead?”

“No… Not yet… You have some little time left… I thought, since you asked, that before you do something that will change everything we should talk.”

Paul nodded. “I prayed… Earlier I prayed.”

“I know… You know, Paul, people sometimes think I don’t listen to prayer anymore… If I ever did. They tell themselves that and then they begin to believe it. I do listen though. I do. Every prayer. Every time. Do you believe that, Paul?”

“I do… I mean I do now. I do know that now. I’m ashamed to say that.”

“Don’t be. There is no shame here. You are used to saying words that really don’t mean anything true. They are there, you say them… In this case you say that you are ashamed when you are not ashamed.”

Paul examined himself. “You’re right… I don’t feel ashamed. I feel good still. At peace still.”

“So how did you get here. How did you come to be here? Who told you that suicide was a solution?”

“I… It was painful… My wife will leave me. We’ll lose everything… The kids… I can’t imagine what the kids will do… Feel… It seemed… It seemed right.”

“Did it?”

Paul thought about it. “Maybe not… It felt like the only choice I had.”

“Yet you called out to me. Why?”

“Because… Because I used to believe in you… I…”

He laughed. “And I am still here. Did you think I had died? Did you think I had stopped believing in you?”

“Some people think so… That you died.”

“You?”

“No… I guess the truth is I just stopped believing… I believed in other things… Taxes… Bills… Mortgage payments… Summer… Fall…”

“The things you see every day.”

“That’s a good way to put it.”

“I have a way with words.”

Paul laughed and then stopped. “I thought maybe that was a joke.”

”It was… Do you wish you had not stopped believing? Do you see how things could have been different?”

“I can see that now, but what good is it after the fact? I pulled the trigger… I remember that.”

“Did you? I think you asked me to help… Sometimes I help in unexpected ways… Thomas needed to see… To place his hand in my side… Peter needed to see me risen… Sometimes my people ask me for help and then don’t recognize the help when it comes.”

“Like now?”

“Like now, yes. It’s time to think. To breath… To make a decision… A different decision.”

“Then what?” Paul asked.

“Then? … What comes, comes… I know what it is to live. I have felt what you feel. Struggled with the same temptations. We take it as it comes to us, Paul.”

“So the problems would still be there?”

“Yes.”

“That’s help?” Paul asked.

“I will help you all that you will allow.”

Paul thought about it and realized it was true.

“So… How did you end up here?”

“I guess I just walked away… I guess I chose to do that.”

You still choose words that are untrue. Do you guess or do you know?”

“I know. I walked away.”

“You know, it’s a split second decision… Many times if you take the time to think you can get through whatever comes at you.”

Paul nodded, took a deep breath. “I see.”

~3~

The finger stopped. He remembered something… Something… Summer. A thousand years ago it seemed… Anne… When they had first met… The picture in his mind was so perfect, so intense. So real, and a flood of images followed it… But… There had been something else there for a moment, hadn’t there? He had been focusing on the trigger… The pressure… And there had been something else there… Just for a moment… It seemed so. It seemed as though he had been ready to pull the trigger and… And someone…


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Earth’s Survivors: The NationDreamers


Dreamer preview from Ami Adams

Dreamer’s Preview

Book Previews Posted by Ami Adams

This is an excerpt from the Dreamer’s book. The first book is available…

In The Sunlight:

The Book Of Memories;

Laura

I started from the first page of the book of memories. It was not a long book. Not a new book. The leather covers were old, mellow, but it had been taken care of. The pages were yellowed, slightly stiff, but they were not falling apart. A slim book, but I felt that what words it did contain most likely more than made up for the size. I began to read from the first page…

… In the beginning there was only the Creator. There was no Earth Mother. No Grandfather Sun to shine. No Grandmother Moon to light our way in the night. No Animals. No Thunders. No Directions. No legends to tell, because there were no peoples.

The Creator lived with the Star People in the heavens. But The Star People were not talkers, and so the Creator became lonely and wished for someone he could talk with.

One day as he walked among the Star People, he decided that he would create a world where he could go and talk to his creations.

Now all the things that ever were, or ever could be, lived within the Creators words. Within himself. So even though he had never walked on a world of the kind that he had in mind, he knew exactly what he wanted and what it should look like.

As he walked among the Star People thinking it out, he realized he did not want just another world full of rocks and trees, mountains and plains. The stars were full of worlds just like that. Those were worlds that were alive, but they were not the kind of life that the Creator was. What the Creator wanted was companionship. Someone he could visit with. Talk with. Someone like himself.

Now a tree or a rock could be visited, talked to, but what he had in mind was something that would answer back. At that time trees and rocks were not much on talking. There came a time within the legends when the trees and the rocks, when many things we do not think of as talkers, did talk. But that was not at this time.

Many cycles passed by as the Creator decided on what he wanted to do and how he should do it. What it would look like: Where it would live. And what the Creator would talk about with this new creation.

Finally, the day came when the Creator decided to create. He chose the earth as the place to create. At that time the Earth was a small, dead world with no Sun. No Moon.

He formed the Sun from the Star People around him and he set it into the void. He formed Grandmother Moon from a small part of the Earth and set her on her path. They had no life of their own at that time though, they simply reflected the life of the Creator.

The Creator then began to speak the words of life as he stepped from the stars onto the Earth, coming to stand in a summer tall field of wheat.

Next he made the directions and named them. The winds; and he gave individual names to each wind. But there was nothing yet to move the winds. No reason yet to the directions. No purpose yet to the greenery, for the wheat, for the rocks. For the Creator had not yet made purpose.

The Creator then bent and placed his hands upon the Earth and spoke her into life, calling her Mother. The Mother of all that could be.

As he stood from the ground he began to create purpose and assign it to his creations: The winds to move the air. Mother Earth’s breaths to move the winds. The directions so that the winds could find their way over the Earth Mother as they moved.

Mother Earth took her first breath and the tops of the Wheat began to sway as the winds picked up her life giving breath and began to carry it to all the corners of the Earth.

The Creator and Mother Earth spent the next several cycles talking. The Creator was pleased with his creation.

Now the Creator enjoyed Mother Earth’s company, but he also had many friends and favorite places among the Star People. Sometimes he would go for long walks among the Star People. Every time he left Mother Earth would become lonely and long for his companionship.

One day when the Creator returned from a walk among the Star People, Mother Earth spoke about her loneliness. The Creator understood her loneliness. It was the same loneliness that the creator himself had suffered through. So The Creator reached deep inside of himself. Taking a part of himself, the Creator mixed this with the words that lived within him, the words of Power and Life. He sowed this seed into the soil that covers Mother Earth.

“These seeds are the words of life become whole. They are of me,” the Creator told her. “Part of your Creator. They will speak themselves into being in the fullness of time and you will never be lonely again.”

The Creator lifted his hands and spoke Grandfather Sun and Grandmother Moon into life, causing the Creators own breath to fall upon them; and so they began to move on their own paths of purpose. “They will be for Times and for Seasons,” he said.

Now several cycles passed and the seed that the Creator had planted within the Earth Mother began to grow. The day came when Grandmother moon came down to hold Mother Earth’s hand and comfort her during her birthing of life.

Grandfather Sun spilled his light upon them and spoke quietly with the creator as the Earth Mother cried out in her birthing pains.

The peoples came first. Red, Yellow, Black, White, the Brown man, and all the shades in between. The birth waters gushed forth from her as Mother Earth’s womb opened and all the peoples were born.

The birth waters became oceans, lakes, rivers and streams.

The Clan Totems and Animal Totems came next. Their place was not on the Earth. Their place was among the Star People where they would live with the Creator. But they bought the Earth animals before them and instructed them on what they were to be for, before they themselves ascended into the Heavens.

Mother Earth’s sacred birth waters bought life to all that they touched. The fish swam in them. Brother Eagle came from the waters and ascended to the sky. Brother Wolf walked from the birth waters and made his home in the forests and the mountains with brother black Bear. Each animal found its place and knew its purpose.

Now the people had no spirits living among the stars. They had no ancestors to guide them. They did not come to fully know the Creator or the Mother Earth. They had no leaders. Knew nothing of totems. Spirits. Brotherhood. And they did not seek to learn because there was no one they would listen to that would tell them.

Now after a time the people began to divide themselves according to their colors. Leaders arose, but leaders who ignored the purpose within their souls, so they began to provoke wars among each other. With the other peoples. This was their nature.

Mother Earth became sadder and sadder as the peoples continued to war and fight. Many died, sending more and more of our kind into the spirit worlds, but they were proud. They didn’t understand life or purpose and they would not lift their arms or their voices to the Creator or the Earth Mother to ask for help. In fact as time passed they did not speak to Mother Earth or the Creator at all. They withdrew and became laws and Gods unto themselves.

One day a little boy was born to a great war chief. The chief held him in his arms at the naming and called him ‘He who speaks with those unseen.’ He did this because even with his first words he began to speak to the ancestors and those who had passed into the spirit worlds and now lived among the Star Peoples.

As the boy grew he spoke of the things that the ancestors told him with his people: He told them everything that the ancestors talked to him about.

He warned them about war. Spoke to them about peace and how all people, every one, were made for a purpose, to live a purpose. How part of that purpose was to live together. Even so the way of death and war continued.

But his own peoples believed and they began to worship the Creator. Speak to the Earth Mother. Sending praises up to the Creator and asking Mother Earth for guidance. In return The Creator and Mother Earth taught them about purpose, life, and to respect all living things on the Earth.

As the creator listened to his peoples, he realized that many of them wished to live in peace, even though some of them desired to make war and follow the way of death. With Mother Earth’s help he made places for all of them to have their own territories; and he separated them with oceans and deep lakes to keep them apart.

“We will have to hope that they have learned to live in peace by the time they learn to cross the great waters,” the Creator told the Earth Mother.

Time moved on. ‘He who speaks with those unseen’ grew up to become the leader of his people. They prayed to the Creator and kept his ways. They held Mother Earth in great regard, respected her ways, and the people grew and prospered. There were no wars, no famines, no sickness in his people.

‘He who speaks with those unseen’, finished his time and went to be with the spirit people among the stars. As the generations passed, however, the peoples again forgot the ways of the Mother Earth and the Creator. They learned to cross the great waters. They learned to hate again: To make war again. And Mother Earth called to the Creator to separate them once more, but he refused to do it.

“They will only come to kill each other once again. To Enslave. To make war. They must learn to make their own peace. Learn their lessons as a law. Come back to us as they should: As they once were. They will have to learn what peace means. Respect, until then we can do nothing with them.”

Mother Earth knew that the Creator was right. Even so with his words she wept. Her tears became the rain that we know. Lifted into the air and carried by the cloud people, to bring her gift of life from the heavens to all peoples through her tears.

It is said that they will continue to come as Mother Earth weeps for all the peoples. And they will be a sign for all peoples to remember that war and killing is not the way.

They will be a sign to us that Mother Earth will continue to bring life from death, the peoples cause. Sending her tears to us in hopes that they may heal us. And to show us that her love will always be with us.

I held the place in the book as I closed my eyes and sent a small prayer to the Creator for allowing me to read those words.

Across from me Bear slept. His paws twitching. The fire crackled companionably. I opened the book and began to read once more…


Enjoy your weekend! Check out Dreamers at the link below, or if you need a free book to read check out Earth’s Survivors: Apocalypse below, Ami…

DREAMERS


B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dreamers-dell-sweet/1123470056?ean=2940152874358

Free eBook


I-Tunes
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/earths-survivors-apocalypse/id963866999?mt=11

SE books from the Earth’s Survivors collections and a short brain fart concerning Microwave ovens…

Classic Posts: Dell Sweet. Posted by Ami Adams

NEWS

This week: It seems like last to this, the week flew by and I had so much to do that I really couldn’t stop to think about it.

Microwave ovens and presets on microwave ovens:

I like microwave ovens. They have made our lives better, I truly believe that. How else can you get a hot cup of coffee from yesterdays leftover coffee in just about 120 seconds? Not that I do that. I mean drink yesterdays left over coffee… Okay… I do.

Here’s the thing though, it’s coffee! That’s my only argument. It should be enough though. I mean it’s like sacred, isn’t it? If I were living in a cave and discovered the coffee bean and bought it to my fellow cave dwellers they would probably build a shrine for me and worship me… Paint pictures of Coffee beans on the cave walls instead of hands, horses and signs for water. History would have been changed! Well, would have been changed had that happened.

So, no. I won’t throw out coffee. I guess that is a shocking admission but it’s true.

Once, I can’t remember the movie, some western, the character threw the dregs of then coffee in his cup on the fire. The other guys around the fire looked at him like he was crazy… Crazy! And, he must have been. I was just a kid at the time and I thought he was crazy! After that the other cowboys ostracized him. And he wasn’t asked along for the next roundup. That’s how serious a thing coffee was for cowboys back in the day. So, I don’t throw away coffee. Which brings me back to microwaves: Don’t you wish your mind worked the way mine does? See how I came right back to where I wanted to be? Okay. I don’t even know how my mind works, I just thank God that it does. So, Microwaves…

I like the idea of a Microwave, but I do have some issues with them. First, you can not make popcorn consistently. In fact, I went to make popcorn the other day and the bag said “Do not use the Popcorn Setting on your Microwave.” Huh. Then why have the setting there? Isn’t that the whole idea? Ease of use? Push one button? Well, we’ll get to that in a minute. The bag went on to give precise microwave instructions: If you have this many “Watts” use this amount of time. This many, that amount of time. I had a headache when I finished reading it. Finally, I put the popcorn back into the cupboard and got some chips instead, and sank into a deep depression over the whole technology thing. How can you eat microwavable popcorn if the button settings are wrong and you have to spend three hours figuring out wattage? You can’t just get out a pan and some butter, tear open the bag and do it that way, can you?

Well, as I sat eating my chips that I didn’t want I thought about that. There are a lot of buttons on a microwave. For instance, there is a beverage button on mine. It doesn’t work for beverages though. It leaves them too cold or too hot. But, what if you accidentally pushed the popcorn button? And, you then found out the popcorn button worked for beverages? Wouldn’t that be great? Well, it does. I tried. But the beverage button will not work for Popcorn. What a mess that was. But, in the end, I did go back out there, rip a popcorn bag open, and put it in a pan with some butter. Guess what? That did work.

As for the coffee on the popcorn setting it did come out pretty good, but I have an aversion to using a button marked Popcorn for Coffee. But, I wonder. If the popcorn companies don’t want you to use it, why do the microwave companies still make a popcorn button? Hmm. And if the beverage button doesn’t work for beverages, what the hell good is it anyway? And, if coffee is the most nuked beverage, why not a Coffee button? And, stay with me here, if the Popcorn button isn’t used anyway, why not re-label it Coffee? Then I wouldn’t have to feel so bad about using the popcorn button for my coffee. Hey, I’m going to get one of those little label makers and make a coffee sticker and put it right over the Popcorn label. That will solve my problems for now. Feel free to just copy the picture above, print it out, and paste it on your own Microwave! No need to say thanks.

That only leaves the power button on mine. But, that is kind of cool. You can press it, set the time amount, and watch the little turntable go around and around….

Have a good week…

Check out The Earth’s Survivors Newest: SE collection books:

By Geo Dell The SE books are two book collections from the Earth’s Survivors series. The Earth’s Survivors books follow survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite that was supposed to miss the earth completely, hits and becomes the cap to a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. Police, fire, politicians, military, governments: All gone. Hopes, dreams, tomorrows: All buried in desperate struggle to survive. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule. Los Angeles: Billy and Beth start out with a small group and wind up on their own as they make their way across America trying to find others and safety. Manhattan: Adam leaves the safety of his apartment to find his way out the dying Manhattan, gathering others as he makes his way. Old Towne New York: Conner is alone for the first few weeks, but then he finds Katie and a reason to live again. They set out to survive and find much more than survival. Watertown New York: Mike Collins goes to sleep thinking about his first vacation in many years that he will start in the morning. He awakens to destruction.

Earth’s Survivors Collected Books

Earth’s Survivors SE 1 by Geo Dell Series: Earth’s Survivors Collected Books. Price: $4.99 USD. Words: 202,170. Language: English. Published: July 5, 2015 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Fantasy » Epic, Fiction » Science fiction » Utopias & dystopias Earth’s Survivors SE 1 contains the complete text from the first two Earth’s Survivors books, Apocalypse and Rising From The Ashes. It includes a character bibliography. It follows survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite hits and sets off a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule.

Earth’s Survivors SE 2 by Geo Dell Series: Earth’s Survivors Collected Books. Price: $4.99 USD. Words: 219,100. Language: English. Published: July 5, 2015 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Fantasy » Epic, Fiction » Science fiction » Utopias & dystopias Earth’s Survivors SE 2 contains the complete text from the Earth’s Survivors books three and four, The Nation and Home in the Valley. It includes a character bibliography. It follows survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite hits and sets off a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule.

Earth’s Survivors SE 3. The Outrunner Books by Geo Dell Series: Earth’s Survivors Collected Books. Price: $4.99 USD. Words: 205,340. Language: English. Published: January 31, 2016 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Science fiction » Apocalyptic, Fiction » Horror » Undead Earth’s Survivors SE 3, The Outrunner Books is all the collected OutRunner books in one place. There were three books written that were then discarded and the storylines were written into the Earth’s Survivors books instead. This Collection follows the OutRunners as they assemble from L.A and N.Y. The only book that tells the full tale of the outrunners…

Earth’s Survivors Se 4: The Story of Candace and Mike by Geo Dell Series: Earth’s Survivors Collected Books. Price: $4.49 USD. Words: 192,410. Language: English. Published: April 3, 2017 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Horror » Undead, Fiction » Science fiction » Utopias & dystopias The Earth’s Survivors SE series follows follow Mike, Candace and a few other survivors as they struggle to stay alive in a vastly changed world. In the early morning hours of March 1st great change came upon the entire planet, touching the small northern New York town where Mike and Candace lived. Earth’s Survivors SE four is the only story that completes the original story of Candace and Mike…

Earth’s Survivors SE 5 by Geo Dell Series: Earth’s Survivors Collected Books. Price: $4.49 USD. Words: 284,070. Language: English. Published: May 1, 2017 by independAntwriters Publishing. Categories: Fiction » Horror » Undead, Fiction » Science fiction » Utopias & dystopias Earth’s Survivors SE 5 brings together book Six and book seven from the earth’s Survivors series in one volume. From the theft of the virus from a top secret facility to the births of The Nation’s first babies, to the formation of The Fold and how it came to be founded. Watertown begins the tale and World Order ends it after picking up at the end of Watertown. A hard, fast read start to finish…


I hope you enjoyed the preview. You can get a longer preview at any of the links, or buy the books.

Enjoy the rest of the weekend and I’ll be back in a few days,Ami.


White Trash. A free peek at one hell of a crime thriller

WHITE TRASH

By Dell Sweet

Copyright © 2018 by Dell Sweet

PUBLISHED BY: Dell Sweet; all rights reserved

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

LEGAL

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

This novel is Copyright © 2018 Dell Sweet. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the authors permission. All rights are retained by the Author.

Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.

Cover art Copyright © 2018 Dell Sweet

WHITE TRASH

Copyright 2018 Dell Sweet, all rights Reserved


Jimmy

He had her tied to the top of the picnic table, nude, but he had to wrap things up, the sun was coming up.

She hadn’t known anything. Nothing at all. If she had, she would’ve told him, Jimmy knew, but he had enjoyed discovering what she didn’t know.

He finished his cigarette, one of hers actually, and crushed it out on the table top. He wore latex gloves on his hands. A plastic slip over suit covered his clothes. He put the butt in a plastic bag that also held the condoms he had used.

He walked back over to the table and Alice’s frightened eyes met his. Pleaded with him. He reached down and pushed the hair away from her eyes. Her mouth was gagged and wrapped with duct tape. She tried to talk as he walked around behind her.

“I’m sorry, Alice, I can’t understand you,” he said. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a switchblade and held it close to his leg. She was already familiar with the switchblade. “It’s time,” he told her. He bought the switchblade up and showed it to her. Her eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets, but before she could more than barely react he bought the knife down into her throat and ran it from side to side in one quick, practiced motion.

He watched her eyes as the light flickered and then went out.  Finally he let her head go and walked away. He stripped off the gloves, the plastic suit, and stuffed it all in the black plastic bag. He lit one more cigarette and looked over his handiwork as he smoked. Perfect he thought. He finally crushed out the last cigarette, dropped the butt into the bag and walked away.

He wondered how soon they would find her, or if the birds and other wildlife would find her first. He would love to stick around and watch, but he had to be moving.

He thought about what Alice had told him about being April Evans lover. He could use that. He could use that when he caught up to April Evans. Now they both had something in common. They had both been Alice’s lover. He chuckled at the thought. He reached his car, climbed in and started it up. He picked up the cell phone and dialed Tommy’s number as he pulled out of the parking lot and passed the empty toll booths.

“It’s Jimmy,” he said when the phone was answered. “Here’s the license number of the vehicle were looking for.” He ran off the license number, make and model of the Jeep that David and April had purchased from Bob’s Easy Auto. He gave their names and descriptions, and then went into an explanation of what he believed had happened. Tommy assured him that he would have the vehicle looked for and let Jimmy know if it was spotted.

“They have the drugs. All of them. The cops have part of Carlos. I imagine the rest of him is at Neo’s… I’ll take care of that,” Jimmy told him.

“I’ll let Jefferson know about Carlos. I’m sure he’ll be happy.  I’ll fill him in on the rest too… What else is there?” Tommy asked.

“Nothing for now,” Jimmy told him. “I’ll be in Liberty in a few hours. I’ll let you know later in the day what I find.” He hung up and concentrated on driving. A few miles down the road he called Vinny back.

“Yeah… I appreciate it… Tommy appreciates it… Listen, those two kids got a large amount of… Let’s say product on them.  I’m talking huge, pounds. Up into the millions, high multiples of them… There can’t be too many people that could handle a buy like that, still… I thought you would… No… No… Yeah, keep your nose to the ground. Let me know… Tommy will be very generous… Thank you,” he hung up and concentrated on driving. He glanced down at his watch, almost 6:00 AM.

The Cops

The sun was up and Don circled carefully round the picnic table looking down at Alice. The gulls had been at her, but only for a little while. The rest of the cuts and missing pieces had been done by somebody with a sharp knife.

He was still in shock. He had been at the trailer park; April’s trailer had held nothing: Missing clothes, same as David’s place, when he and Don had been called to respond to the public beach which was only 10 miles down the road. They had only told him that it might be his missing female. He and Sammy had made it in less than ten minutes.

He had been shocked when he had seen it was Alice tied to the table. And the torture marks on her body had been an even bigger shock. He had just left her at work a few hours before. How could it be her? A call to the young kid, her boss, had revealed that someone he believed to be another cop had walked her to his car shortly after Don and Sammy had left. He had gotten to the bottom of that, and the description, tall, short cropped black hair, the gray at the temples, hard looking, casual clothes, pullover sweater in a dark colored coat had hit home: The guy who had walked into the store. He had replayed it two dozen times and the guy’s description was now out on the radio. The car had been a gray sedan, and he had remembered the first three digits of the license plate number. It was the best he could do. The whole ID would get pushed statewide in a short while.

The techs arriving even now were shocked. It was a small area, crime happened, even murder, but not like this, not usually. They set about doing their jobs though. Don stepped back to where Sammy was, lit a cigarette and watched.

Sammy looked up at him.

“Sorry,” Don said. Without offering to snuff the cigarette.

“Don’t be,” Sammy said. “This shit keeps up, I might take up smoking again myself.” Sammy looked down at his watch. “Only seven. It’s going to be a long god damn day,” he said.

Mobile

“Why would you tell them something like that?” Ronnie Lee asked.

“Listen,” Rich said. “It’s a couple of kids. The one kid used to work for me. Not the brightest…” He sighed “They have some shit that’s hot. I mean real hot. I don’t know where they came by it, but I know where it came from, and all those guys are dead. All you got to do is take it off their hands. Sell it, you and I split the profit,” he said.

“And how does that work. Take it off their hands? Steal it? Is that what you mean?” Ronnie Lee asked.

“Yeah, well, yeah, you’ll have to. I mean you deal on a big level. You’ve done some shit same as me… Don’t tell me you haven’t… Look, I’ll be blunt. I can send them right to you; right to you. They will walk right in to where ever you need them to walk in to. Put a bullet in both of their heads and dump them in the nearest swamp. Take the shit off their hands. It’s that simple, Ronnie lee. That simple,” Rich told him. 

“You are crazy, Rich. You want me to kill a couple of kids for a few pounds a weed? A little coke? How much H? Even if it’s an ounce I’m not killing any one for it. Your fuckin’ crazy, Rich,” Ronnie Lee told him.

“Listen, goddamn it! Do you know who Tommy Murphy is?  Huh? Or Jefferson Prescott? Eh? Names ring some bells? Those are the guys who got ripped off. I’m talking serious, large amounts of money. It’s out there that they want it back, and how much it is too. You just haven’t heard about it yet,” Rich said.

“And I don’t want to hear about it if they’re involved. It would be like stealing from them. They’ll send someone to take care of me. Make me dead. No fuckin’ thanks. How much, if it’s so much, how much? I know I wouldn’t touch it if it was a half million bucks. No fuckin’ way. No way. It wouldn’t be worth it,” Ronnie lee said over the phone.

Rich held the phone away from his ear. When Ronnie was done he spoke. “Neither would I. How much would you do it for Ronnie? How much?” Richard asked.

“Don’t be stupid, Rich. Don’t be.”

Rich cut him off. “How much? Just say it so I know where we’re at,” Rich said.

“I’m serious, man, you’re talking shit. Just bullshit,” Ronnie lee said. “I don’t know man… I guess I probably would do it for a half a mil.. That means a real mil. split between us,” he said at last.

“Fifteen to twenty” Rich said.

“Time?” Ronnie lee asked.

“No. I mean fifteen to twenty million dollars of product.  Those two kids are carrying it around the fuckin’ country. Fuck the shit right out of half a mil. each. Do you think I’d fuck around with turning on Jefferson for any reason? I wouldn’t, so you know it’s got to be big. Fifty, fifty. Seven  to ten mil. each,” Rich said. “It’s fucking incredible just to say it like that.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m down with that shit, man… Why didn’t you just say so, man? Holy fuck. Yeah… Yeah… Okay, what do I got to know?” Ronnie lee asked.

Rich laughed and began to explain the situation and describe David and April. He looked at his watch, 8:00 AM he saw. “They’ll be to you in about twenty five hours or so if they drive straight through,” he said. “I’ll let you know as I know.”


Barnes & Noble (Nook): https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/white-trash-dell-sweet/1129773737?ean=2940155853428


Books and a free story

Posted by Dell 08-03-2015

This week: I have a true story from, “TRUE: True stories from a small town #1”. These stories are from my past. I have three volumes published and I will probably add a few more this winter when I have the time.

Last week had been a long hot week here, but the humidity, despite the rain, fell over the weekend… Finally!

Earth’s Survivors Plague has been released. Click below to get it or read a free preview.

Amazon U.S.:
http://www.amazon.com/Earths-Survivors-Plague-Geo-Dell-ebook/dp/B0137DRAUY

Amazon U.K.:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Earths-Survivors-Plague-Geo-Dell-ebook/dp/B0137DRAUY

I-Tunes:
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/earths-survivors-plague/id1015630497?mt=11

B&N:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/earths-survivors-dell-sweet/1122252296?ean=2940152010350

Things are going to continue to be absolutely crazy here as I adapt to the changes with my health, but so far I am doing that well. I am going to be working on publishing Fig street in the next few weeks. It is out for test reads right now, then I will comb through it again, make the rest of the changes, send it back and wait for the editing to finish. It is finished and needs a run through for context before it goes off to the editor (Geo Dell). Geo and I are doing that book together. I really enjoyed writing it, taking it from a small serialized story to a novel.

I will leave you with this true story…

Back in the eighties I drove taxi for a few years. That time of my life has provided tons of written material, but this is the only true story I wrote about that time period. I hope you enjoy it, and I will be back next week…

The Last ride By Dell Sweet

Single Edition Licensed for SOTOFO Blog

PUBLISHED BY: independAntwriters All Rights Reserved

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. 

This short story is Copyright © 2013 – 2015 Wendell Sweet & independAntwriters. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the author’s permission. Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print

The Last Ride is Copyright © 2013 – 2015 Dell Sweet. All rights reserved

________________________________

THE LAST RIDE

It was early in my shift. I owned my own taxi so I could pretty much pick which 12 hour shift I wanted to drive. I drove nights so that I could be home with my son during the day while my wife worked. I had told myself for most of the last year that I should stop driving taxi, settle down to a real job and be more responsible, but then a Conrail contract came along, and then the opportunity to work with another driver who handled the Airport contract: Suddenly I was making more money than I could have reasonably expected from what I would have considered a straight job.

The hours were long, but there was something that attracted me to the night work. Always had been. Like my internal clock was Set to PM. It just seemed to work and after a few failed attempts to work day shift work, I gave it up and went to work full time nights.

I was never bored. The nights kept me awake and interested. They supplied their own entertainment. Conrail crews, regulars that called only for me, the assorted funny drunks late at night when the bars were closing. Soldiers on their way back to the nearby base, and a dancer at a small club just off downtown that had been calling for me personally for the last few weeks: Using my cab as a dressing room on the way back to her hotel. It was always something different.

Days, the few times I’d driven days, couldn’t compare. Sure, there was violence at night too, but it rarely came my way and never turned into a big deal when it did.

It was Friday night, one of my big money nights, about 7:00 P.M. and my favorite dispatcher, Smitty, had just come on. He sent me on a call out State street that would terminate downtown. Once I was downtown, I could easily pick up a GI heading back to the base for a nice fat fare and usually a pretty good tip. My mind was on that. My mind was also on that dancer who would be calling sometime after 2:00 AM, and who had made it clear that I was more than welcome to come up to her room. It was tempting, I’ll admit it, and each time she called, she tempted me more. I figured it was just a matter of time before I went with her.

I really didn’t see the lady when she got into my car, but when it took her three times to get out the name of the bar downtown that she wanted to go to, I paid attention. Drunk. It was early too. Sometimes drunks were okay, but most times they weren’t. This one kept slumping over, slurring her words, nearly dropping her cigarette: I owed the bank a pile of money on the car and didn’t need burn holes in my back seat.

I dropped the flag on the meter, pulled away from the curbing and eased into traffic. Traffic was heavy at that time and I pissed off more than a few other drivers as I forced my way into the traffic flow. I had just settled into the traffic flow when a glance into the rear view mirror told me my passenger had fallen over. I couldn’t see the cigarette, but I could still smell it. I made the same drivers even angrier as I swept out of the traffic flow and angled up onto the sidewalk at the edge of the street. I got as far out of the traffic flow as I could get so I could get out to see what was up with the woman in the back seat.

I was thinking drunk at the time, but the thought that it could be something more serious crept into my head as I made the curb, bumped over it, set my four way flashers and climbed out and went around to the back door.

She was slumped over into the wheel well, the cigarette smoldering next to her pooled, black hair. In her hair, I realized, as the smell of burning hair came to me. I snatched the cigarette and threw it out then shook her shoulder to try to bring her around, but it was obvious to me, just that fast, that the whole situation had changed. She wasn’t breathing.

I reached in, caught her under the arms, and then suddenly someone else was there with me.

He was a short, thin man, wearing a worried look upon his face. Dark eyes sat deeply in their sockets. His hair hung limply across his forehead. He squeezed past me and looked down at the woman. He pushed her eyelids up quickly, one by one, and then held his fingers to her lips. He frowned deeply and flipped the hair away from his forehead.

“Paramedic”, he told me as he took her other arm and helped me pull her from the back seat.

We laid her out on the sloping front lawn of the insurance company I had stopped in front of and he put his head to her chest.

He lifted his head, shaking it as he did. “Call an ambulance,” he said tersely.

I could feel the shift in his demeanor. He wasn’t letting me know he could handle the situation, like when he told me he was a paramedic, he was handling it. I got on the radio and made the call.

The ambulance got there pretty quickly. I stood back out of the way and let them work on her, raising my eyes to the backed up traffic on occasion. The paramedic had torn open her shirt. Her nudity seemed so out of place on the city sidewalk. Watching the traffic took the unreal quality of it away from me. I watched the ambulance pull away, eased my car down off the curb and back into the sluggish traffic and went back to work.

I got the story on her about midnight once things slowed down and I stopped into the cab stand to talk to the dispatcher for a short while. His daughter knew someone, who knew someone, who knew someone at the hospital. The woman had taken an overdose. Some kind of pills. It was going to be touch and go. He also had a friend in the police department too. She did it because of a boyfriend who had cheated on her. It seemed so out of proportion to me. I went back to work, but I asked him to let me know when he heard more.

2:30 AM

The night had passed me by. The business of the evening hours catching me up for a time and taking me away from the earlier events. I was sitting downtown in my cab watching the traffic roll by me. It was a beautifully warm early morning for Northern New York. I had my window down letting the smell of the city soak into me, when I got the call to pick up my dancer with the club gig.

“And,” Smitty told me over the static filled radio, “your lady friend didn’t make it.”

It was just a few blocks to the club. I left the window down enjoying the feeling of the air flowing past my face. The radio played Steely Dan’s Do It Again, and I kind of half heard it as I checked out the back seat to see if the ghost from the woman earlier might suddenly pop up there.

The dancer got in and smiled at me. I smiled back, but I was thinking about the other woman, the woman who was now dead, sitting in that same place a few hours before. The dancer began to change clothes as I drove to her hotel.

“You know,” she said, catching my eyes in the mirror. “I should charge you a cover. You’re seeing more than those GI’S in the club.” She shifted slightly, her breasts rising and falling in the rear view mirror. We both laughed. It was a game that was not a game. She said it to me every time. But my laugh was hollow: Despite her beauty, I was still hung up on someone being alive in my back seat just a few hours before and dead now. Probably being wheeled down to the morgue were my friend Pete worked. I made myself look away and concentrate on the driving. She finished dressing as I stopped at her hotel’s front entrance.

“You could come up… If you wanted to,” she said. She said it lightly, but her eyes held serious promise.

“I’d like to… But I better not,” I said.

She smiled, but I could tell I had hurt her feelings. It was a real offer, but I couldn’t really explain how I felt. Why I couldn’t. Not just because I was married, that was already troubled, but because of something that happened earlier.

I drove slowly away after she got out of the cab and wound up back downtown for the next few hours sitting in an abandoned buildings parking lot thinking… “I was only concerned about her cigarette burning the seats.”

I smoked while I sat, dropping my own cigarettes out the window and onto the pavement. A short while later Smitty called me with a Conrail trip. I started the cab and drove out to Massey yard to pick up my crew. The dancer never called me again…


I hope you enjoyed the story. I will be back again next week. Enjoy your week, Dell.


Geo Dell

Posted by Geo

I spent today working on finishing up the links for the website change. At the beginning of the month Dell changed all the books over, so Amazon has it books back again.

Earth’s Survivors Nations Books:

One: Apocalypse

Two: Rising From The Ashes

Three: The Nation

I know that it took a lot of work to get those books back in that format. So I hope it works out well. He intends to support that series.

What else? Well spring has sprung here. It was so beautiful out today that I thought possibly someone screwed up, drugged me in my sleep, and transported me to somewhere warm. It was disheartening to find I was still here in New York but it was definitely heart lifting to feel warmth outside. I guess God turned the heat back on. Okay, he’s a good landlord after all. Forget all those bad things I said. I took the afternoon and threw together an acoustic guitar I could kick around with. I am also working on a bigger project that still has a way to go before it wraps up.

We have talked about books and besides finishing the second Dreamer’s book, and then Hurricane this fall, the summer writing schedule is open.

I live less that two hundred miles from most of the people I know. I have one friend that lives quite a bit further, the middle of the country, and another that lives all the way on the opposite end of the continent. What amazes me this year is that even though some of us are so far apart we have all had a long winter with all kinds of unusual weather. It’s strange to me that I can be talking to someone 1500 miles away and they are having the same weather I am having. That isn’t usually the case. It has been an odd winter.

Here is a short look at White Trash that I hope you enjoy…

White Trash

Copyright Dell Sweet 2018

* * * * *

Original Material Copyright © 2010 – 2014 by Dell Sweet

All rights reserved

* * * * *

This preview is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

LEGAL

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living persons places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.

Cover and Interior Art Copyright 2019Dell Sweet

~

Friday morning: Mistakes

The headlights swept the area of the lookout and then flicked off. Ben waited to see what would happen next. The car had parked right next to their own car, but they weren’t in it. They were a hundred yards up, just inside the tree line.

The door opened and a light came on. A voice: “It’s the right color maybe it is them,” the voice said. A young, thin black man stepped out into the circles of light cast by the headlights and stretched his legs.

The driver, a shorter even skinnier white kid, got out and looked around. “I don’t see them,” he said. He lit a cigarette and then shut the car door. “Yo ho,” he said loudly. “If you’re here speak up. We know we’re late.”

The silence held. Ben put one finger to his lips so Ed wouldn’t be tempted to answer.

“Told you. They’re fuckin’ long gone,” the black kid said.

Ben made a follow-me motion and headed over to the car. Not really sneaking, but walking quietly. He held his gun at his side and Ed did the same.

Both men were smoking now and looking out at the city lights. Ben walked right up to them and then purposely ground his foot into the gravel to make a noise. Both of them screamed and jumped.

“Where the fuck have you two been?” Ben asked. He actually was mad but he was even more relieved and trying hard not to laugh at the way they had screamed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the black kid asked. He seemed to recover the quickest. “We don’t know you.”

“Yeah?” Ben asked. “Do you know Carlos by any chance? Are you two sorry looking fuckers Daryl and Danny? Huh? Would that be you two?”

“Man, there ain’t no call to cuss,” Daryl said.

“No? Then explain why you’re almost twenty-four fuckin’ hours late?” Ben asked.

“Car broke down. Carlos only gave us enough for this shit box and it broke down,” Daryl said.

“For twenty-four hours?” Ben asked.

“Hey, man, we had to get a part, okay?” Daryl asked.

“What part?” Ben asked.

“The mother fuckin’ alternator, okay, white man?” he asked.

“No need to go in that direction,” Ben said.

“Yeah? Then get off my fuckin’ back,” Daryl said. “And put those guns away unless you’re gonna use them.” He pulled a gun partway out of his own pocket. It looked like a Chinese made 9 mm.

Ben was tempted to shoot the kid just for the threat, but he slipped his pistol back into his jacket pocket, walked over to the Ford’s trunk, unlocked it and swung up the trunk lid. “You ready or what?” he asked.

Up The Hill

It felt like he broke his kneecap when he slammed it into the bottom of the dashboard. He must’ve dozed off. When he had come awake, he heard them talking and realized the deal was finally going down. He jumped out of the car, rubbed the knee for a second and then started down the hill at a quick pace.

It was maybe a quarter mile and he wasn’t in bad shape, but he wasn’t in great shape either. It was the goddamn cigarettes. That was what was the worst of it. Killed your wind. Heart, lungs, bad shit. He had to stop soon before they fucking killed him.

By the time he got close to the lookout he had to stop and catch his breath. He didn’t want them to hear him breathing heavy. He wanted to sneak up on them. He finally caught his breath and crept forward into the woods that surrounded the lookout area.

~

Daryl opened the trunk of the Toyota and picked up the blue duffel bag. He tossed it to Ben and Ben caught it deftly. Ben stared at him until Daryl broke the stare.

“If you want it any time you can have it,” Ben said softly.

Daryl’s eyes cut back up. “What’s that supposed to mean, white boy?” His hand plunged into his jacket pocket.

“Words to an old song,” Ben said and smiled. The smile didn’t extend to his eyes. His eyes said, ‘If you want a piece of me you can have it.’ Daryl looked away again.

Ben set the bag down and ran the zipper. He pulled a few bricks out, counted and then looked back at Daryl who refused to meet his gaze. His eyes kept sliding way.

“A little short,” Ben said.

“My ass,” Daryl said.

“It is going to be your ass,” Ben agreed quietly. “There are two and two missing. See this mark?” He turned one of the bricks over to show a mark in the shape of a star. “I know that mark. That mark tells me a lot. Where it came from, which clan made it. And what it is. Pure heroin. I mean pure. Hasn’t been touched. From Torres, deep Mexico.” He turned the other brick upside down. A double circle with a triangle. “Also pure. This time cocaine. Almonte’s crew, Ecuador. I know this stuff, like I said. And I know what should be here. Two and two missing. Cough it up.” His gun magically appeared in his hand.

“Hey, man,” Danny said. “I think we need to calm down. Why you wanna kill someone right off the bat, man, huh?”

“Where is it?” Ben asked. He set the duffel bag into the trunk, and switched the gun to his shooting hand. “I don’t necessarily want to kill anyone, but I will. I have no problem with that.” He lifted the gun and aimed at Daryl’s head.

“Hey,” Daryl started.

Drop the mother fuckin’ gun,” a new voice said. “Don’t think about changing positions… I mean all you fucks. All of you. Starting with you, wise guy. Bring that gun down.”

The man who owned the voice stepped up behind him and pressed the barrel of a gun to Ben’s neck. Ben’s hand dropped and the man took the gun from him. “On the ground out flat, Hands behind your head,” the man told him.

He took Ben’s gun and dropped it into the blue duffel bag. He took Ed’s gun, then Daryl’s, and Danny’s last. He checked the cars, found the other 9 mm in the glove box. He took Ed’s bundle of cash when he searched him, whistling as he did. He dropped the cash and the three cheap, black 9 mm guns into the blue duffel bag, which he set into the open trunk of the Ford. He holstered his own weapon and flipped the safety off the small Chinese gun Daryl had been carrying. He stepped back and tripped over the curb.

The gun went flying and all hell broke loose. Ben jumped up and caught Ed’s elbow dragging him backwards fast. Daryl and Danny grabbed the brown suitcase, threw it on to the back seat of the Toyota and jumped inside.

Ben had been just about to make his own move when the cop made the mistake of tripping, playing right into Ben’s game plan.

The cop found his feet, got his own gun back into his hands and then ran for the woods. Ben got his other gun from his jacket, passed the 22 to Ed, and palmed the silenced 9 mm himself. They both duck walked around to the front of the Ford, got to the door, levered it open and got in. Ed crawled across to the passenger’s seat while Ben jumped into the driver’s seat. A shot came from behind them, staring the rear window and passing through the fleshy part of Ben’s shoulder. Ed leaned out the window and opened up on Daryl who was leaning out of the driver’s side of the Toyota trying for another shot. He apparently had no idea how to use the gun. He ducked downward into the car when Ed fired back.

“Ed, you gotta drive. You gotta drive, Ed” Ben said. He held his shoulder as he slid across the seat and they switched places.

Ed was nervous, but he got the car going. He started to turn around to see where he was going, but another shot starred the glass and he simply floored the Ford and dropped it into reverse.

The Ford leapt backwards, smashed into the rear quarter panel of the Toyota and pushed past it. The Toyota skipped across the gravel as the Ford screeched past it, spun around, and came to a stop pointing outward. Ed floored it and started out of the turnout.

Daryl had the Toyota started a second later. “We got to get them, Danny. We got to get them or were dead, man. We got to.” He spun the wheel hard left on the Toyota, jammed the gas pedal to the floorboard and slewed around, clipping the stone wall and then screaming out onto the blacktop; chasing after the Ford.

Ben managed to get his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a number.

“I’m coming to you,” he said… “Like a dream… A bad fuckin’ dream… I’ve been shot… Not bad, but be ready for me.” He clicked off the phone and shoved it into his pocket. “I’m gonna tell you where to turn. Don’t sweat it. This is part of the plan, only it was supposed to be just the cop, not these dip shits. Now it’ll probably be both… I can shoot: If I have to take them out I will… You understand, Eddie? You got me? You drive. Turn when I tell you, we’ll be fine. Drive hard, but don’t lose them. They stole from us, we have to get that back, plus the cop was probably parked farther away. We have to give him time to reach his car and follow us.”

Ed nodded.

“Good…” He took a deep breath. The pain was heavy in his shoulder. Maybe a fractured bone, maybe worse. Or maybe just the freshness of the wound. “Okay, turn left at the bottom of the hill. First left, that will get us on our way.” Ben told him.

Up The Hill Again

He made it back to the car and nearly passed out. He couldn’t open the door. The door was stuck, and then he remembered he had locked it. He reached into his pocket for his keys but the pocket was empty. He searched his other pocket, his coat, but there were no keys.

He yelled. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He slammed his fists into the top of the car over and over again. He finally turned around, leaned back against the car and then slid to the ground.

He stayed that way for a while, he had no idea how long. Finally, the rage passed and he got back to his feet and walked off down the hill in search of the keys.

Thankfully most of the lookout was well lit. Still, he didn’t find the keys until he was at the absolute end of his journey. They were on the ground amid some scuffed up earth, just about a foot past the curbing he had tripped over.

He pocketed the keys just as the sound of distance sirens came to him and looking out over the city he saw the red lights heading for the park. He sighed and began to run once again.

*******

I hope you enjoyed the preview. You can get the book at the links below.

That’s it for me. I hope you have a great week. Dell will be here Sunday. Check out the new site when you get a chance. Geo…

White Trash: ItunesSmashwords – KoboNookG Play

America the Dead Podcast on YouTube Episode 17

War

The cave was up early the next morning. It seemed as though everybody had some task to complete, some job to fill the day.

The open space of the large limestone cave accommodated all the people and all the supplies and possessions they had accumulated over the short period they had been together. Now it also held the first truck that Bob and Tom were going to convert. Everybody found a reason to stop and look at what they were doing as they went about their chores.

Bob and Tom would be left behind for the next several days as the others continued to search out items on Jan’s lists as well as a few parts Bob and Tom had been unable to find.

Mike was working on getting some coffee into him when Tim and Annie came back into the cave in a hurry, looking around. When Tim’s eyes fell on Mike he headed straight for him. Mike glanced from Tim and Annie to the covered entrance way but no one else came through it. “Ronnie wants you,” Was all Tim said. His frightened eyes said more than his words. Everyone had seen Tim and Annie rush into the cave and they looked at Mike now, wondering what had caused them to hurry in. Mike shrugged his shoulders and headed for the entrance way, Candace and Patty behind him. Everyone else paused in what they were doing; waiting to learn what was going on.

Mike stepped outside into the early morning quiet. Ronnie,

Nell and Sandy were staring down the river road toward the old restaurant that graced the end of the street. Mike walked up, but before he reached them, a volley of gunshots reached his ears. It sounded to him as though they had come from lower State Street, just off the square, very close by.

The sound of a revving engine reached his ears at nearly the same time, and a speeding truck raced by the end of the road about a quarter mile away. The shots came heavy and hard. It sounded like a war zone.

“How long’s this been going on?”

“About fifteen minutes or so. That’s the third truck that’s gone by the end of the street,” Nell said.

The gunfire sounded even louder if that were possible. Squealing tires on pavement, straining engines. … …

As of this coming Monday, there will be 17 FREE episodes you can watch/listen to on YouTube, Dell…