Riddles

First published in Quail Bell.

With the luck of the Irish, I’d landed a plum of a job in the fanciest hotel on the hill, me a mere twelve-year-old in a crisp, bright uniform with a pill box hat the color of my freckles and hair, the newest message boy scrounging tips for cables and notes delivered promptly to various guests of this post establishment. Donovan, that’s me, fast and alert and on the spot with a smile and an itch to succeed at whatever came my way….

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Fred Miller’s Publications

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Fred’s first short story, The Wedding, was published in 2003 in Puckerbrush Review, a print publication edited by the New England Poet Laureate Constance Hunting. Other stories by Fred have appeared in these publications: The Houston Literary Review, The Front Porch Review, Skive Magazine (Australia), Corner Club Press, Writing Raw, Scarlett Rosebud, Troubadour 21, Dew On The Kutzu-a Southern Ezine, Static Movement, Eunoia Review (Singapore), Roar & Thunder (Australia), Kaleidoscope, Bartleby Snopes, The Cynic Online, Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal, Oxford Today, Connotation Press: An Online Artifact, Bewildering Stories, The Literary Yard (India), Fiction on the Web (UK) DuLugstSoSchon (Germany), Eskimo Pie, Deep South Review, Fabula Argentea, The Fable Online (UAE), Through The Gaps, The Linnet’s Wings (Ire.), Jellyfish Review (Indonesia), Donut Factory, Down In The Dirt, Potluck, Dime Show Review, TreeHouse Arts, AWS (Can), The Flash Fiction Press, Scarlet Leaf Review, The Charles Charter, Corvus Review, 50-Word Stories, Storgy, CommuterLit (Canada), The Wagon Magazine (India), Quail Bell Magazine, and Literally Stories (UK).
All of Fred’s stories are edited by Ms. Sej Harman at WordWright (sej.harman@gmail.com).

The Party

Previously published in The Wagon Magazine.

 “Sybil, darling, it’s Allison, how are you, my dear?”

“Just fine, Allison,” I say, holding one of the girls in my arms, the receiver clutched between my cheek and shoulder. “And you?”

“Splendid, couldn’t be better. Say, I’m having a few friends over on the tenth for cocktails around eight and I’d love for you to join us, that is if you’re free that night,” she says. She knows that I am. Where would the hell else I am?….

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Thursday: My New Home

First published in CommuterLit.

CHRISTMAS IS the best. Ask any six-year-old. Filled with dreams and treats every kid craves, it’s a wonder it’s limited to a single appearance a year. Dad assures me that if this holiday came more often, the excitement would fade. I don’t want to believe it, but he’s my dad, and dads are never wrong….

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The Promise

First appeared in Storgy.

His gaze is seared in my memory, his last words locked into my soul. Following a lifetime of respect and local acclaim, he’d entrusted a mere twelve-year-old, with little knowledge of life’s vicissitudes and challenges, to carry out his final wishes. Yet the story I wish to share blossomed the day I turned four, the candles reflecting on my cheeks as I peered into his broad smile and realized he encompassed all that I’d hoped I could become some day….

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Aloysius P. Arbuckle

First published in The Charles Charter

The first moments of the day are the best: peaceful, serene, and cozy. I blink in the early morning light and listen to the birds, music to my ears. Then I cock one eye open and make a security sweep of the place. The management is still in the sack. Figures….

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Best Friend

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First published in the Scarlet Leaf Review.

He was my best friend, Rosco Ace Mays III, by name, but everyone in the ‘hood except his ole man called him Trey. Because Trey was the third “Ace” in the family, his dad had decided to call him “Lucky.” He was a wiry little kid who was antsy and had an unforgettable steel blue gaze, and that might not seem unusual elsewhere, but as far as I know, he was the only kid on the south side without chocolate brown eyes. What I remember most about him was his ability to lie better than any other soul I’d ever encountered, and with a straight face, too. Trey was a true artist….

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