Alex Carrick’s Blog

I refer to this piece as half poetry, half storytelling and half crazy. Since there is a poetic element, I’d like the flow to be consistent down the page (or screen, actually, in this case). Thus present preamble to take the intro past the picture of the scholarly-looking gentleman on the right (your left). ** […]

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Paul didn’t care that some people might find it maudlin. Perhaps even in questionable taste. It had long given him comfort. And now he was sharing it with his children. It was their annual day to visit the cemeteries – two in fact. One on the outer fringe of the mega city, that Paul liked […]

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Donna and I have attended an auction or two. It’s a fascinating experience, filled with tradition and a lively cast of characters. Not least among the latter is the auctioneer. He’s charged with keeping things going and, of course, making as much money as possible for sellers and the “house”. On that score and for […]

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     The following are my ruminations on the passage of time and the aging process.      There are also some wry observations on how tolerant society is towards the elderly.      What’s required may be a little more patience. Of course, most of this is tongue in cheek.         Tick-tock or digital flash,      seconds race a headlong […]

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Twitter has a quaint tradition known as Follow Friday. This is the commendable practice, carried out during the last workday of each week, of recommending fellow tweeters for following. The means is to list names (the @ avatars) along with an accompanying hashtag description (#fridayfollow). The problem is that a mere listing of names quickly turns bland. In fairly short order, it […]

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For all her flustered outward appearance, Jilal was a deep thinker. Single, aged 32, a brunette well-above average in appearance and living in an eco-friendly home halfway between the citizens on ground level and those perched high above, she was having a typical day off. Mid-morning and her heart was already pounding. Too much to […]

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Note: This story received an honorable mention in the 2010 Lorian Hemingway Short Story Competition. The man, his son and his daughter had a routine when they went for a bike ride. Taking point position would be the son, about to turn age 12, on a medium-sized bike. In the middle would be the daughter, just […]

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Paying attention to detail solved the case. There were several abnormalities to note about the two-foot-tall fish tank. A small amount of water had been displaced, as if someone’s arm had been inserted all the way; the ceramic castle on the bottom appeared to have been moved on its granular base, possibly for aesthetic reasons; […]

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Bradley found it was easiest to talk to his imaginary friend, Russell, while getting dressed before the full-length mirror in the bathroom. In such a setting, Russell became both a congenial valet and good sounding board. He would stand to the side and let Bradley talk.   Russell had been around for as long as Bradley could remember. […]

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Frank had learned how to control his dreams. He’d never experienced nightmares before. That’s why the past several months were so disturbing for him.   His power over dreams first came when he was a little boy. He saw a magazine photo of Michelangelo’s famous scene on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in Rome’s Vatican. […]

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