This short story originally appeared in the Bangalore Review. Chris My alarm shrieks. It’s 6:57. Out of bed and into yesterday’s clothes. Dizzy from alcohol and insufficient sleep, I step into the morning under-dressed. My coat lies on the couch, the December freeze ignored in my haste. I race the clock to move my car. … Continue reading Different Lives
Almost Fiction
Breaking out beyond my blog
Months ago, I wrote a blog post called Blogging, Disabilities and Other Stuff. After I hit publish, I realized that The Other Stuff is the tile of my blog. Possibly, and unintentionally, I may have defined the other stuff. In this post, the only other stuff besides blogging and disabilities is my insecurity over whether … Continue reading Breaking out beyond my blog
Six Word Story
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, kaboom. Copyright © 2018 by Jeff Cann All rights reserved. No part of this story, in full or by segment, may be copied, reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including analog or digital print, photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior … Continue reading Six Word Story
Transforming Mom
Mothers’ Day: a topic deserving some real estate on my blog, thoughts about mom. But not my mom, Decades ago, she got sick, and then she got sicker. She’s been dead for thirty-three years. I’ve already written about her, twice. Pornography About Death Today, I’m writing about Tristan’s mom, I’m writing about Elyse. Elyse isn’t … Continue reading Transforming Mom
Buzz, revisited
Last week, I posted a story, Buzz, that paints a picture of drug use. It wasn’t encouraging or cautionary. It offered no opinion. It was simply a snapshot, a vivid scene featuring four intoxicated teens. It went nowhere. Stats-wise, it was my worst performing story in a year. Thirty page-views, two commenters, not so many likes. … Continue reading Buzz, revisited
Buzz
The four of us huddle in the dorm room, lights low, a single candle burns on the coffee table. The candle sits in a mountain of wax covering what was simply a Budweiser bottle just a few hours ago. Each of us digs at the candle, at the wax-mound, with glowing hot paperclips. Heat the … Continue reading Buzz
Do Not Reply (Satire)
Jeff Cann <donotreply@wordpress.com> Time: December 16, 2017 at 2:26 pm IP Address: 77.175.23.87 Contact Form URL: https://jefftcann.com/contact/ Sent by a verified WordPress.com user. Name: Melissa Marks Email: melissa.marks72@yahoo.com Website: http://lifeisstrangeblog.com Comment: Hi Jeff, I’ve been reading your blog for nine months now, and I have to say, receiving your posts are the highlight of my week. I feel … Continue reading Do Not Reply (Satire)
The Blue Trail
A longish short story that I classify as Almost Fiction. A fairly dramatic departure from my usual writing. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Shovel in hand, part-way through the job of replacing my sump-pump drainage pipe, I first caught sight of Pat. I was still digging out the decayed tar-paper piping that was … Continue reading The Blue Trail
Tiny Man
I started painting again, after the trial ended. When I began my mandatory therapy program. I take the therapy seriously. It would be a waste of time if I didn't. But I can’t tell if Dr. Mayes does. For her, meeting with me seems like a chore. Like it's her sentence as well as mine. … Continue reading Tiny Man
Mr. Marks’ Christmas Dose
“Christmas? No, we’re not open on Christmas.” Adam turned away from the counter, trying to look distracted by a display of button batteries. “Well, I don’t like that at all. What if I miscalculate my pill supply? What if I drop them in the toilet? I did that once.” Mr. Marks unloaded his basket—One-A-Day vitamins, … Continue reading Mr. Marks’ Christmas Dose
The Break Down
“Dad, why don’t we call a friend?” Broken down on a country road… after dark… eighteen degrees, windy. Susan took the ‘good’ car, we took the pickup. A 1995 Dodge Dakota. It’s fun to drive around town, but you don’t want to rely on it—on a country road, after dark, when it’s really cold. “Dad, … Continue reading The Break Down