One Trick Pony

For the last fifteen or so years I've been living with a bunch of dead guys at a motel in West Texas. Like the characters in my stories, I'd really like to move on, see the world, go places. But I'm just like them. Anchored by love, worn down by circumstances and fascinated by how much there really is underneath it all. So I keep writing their stories and tell myself that someday, when I've got this all out of my system, I'll write deep, meaningful literature about... something else. In the meantime, this is a place for the short attention spanned. I'm making a commitment to keep it small here. Flash fiction and scenes from the life inspired by, The Bella Vista Motel.

Thanks for reading.


Sunday, February 28, 2010

Madge Makes Up Her Mind - 9

Madge had seen women come and go at the motel. They fell into two categories as a rule, whores who tagged along with the men who came to stay, and whores from the Shy Violet in San Angelo who came over to service the men who came to stay. Either way, other women were an infrequent and insignificant presence at the motel and Madge had very little cause to do more than ignore them politely. Madge was the woman of the house who held her own among the ever changing gang of men by doing what she had always done, keeping her guard up and projecting a strong attitude of unavailability... as well as relying on their fear of Romeo to keep them in check. The vulnerability of a young girl in a servant's position hadn't occurred to her when she'd gone out and picked up Maria, but she worried about it now that Maria was missing and hesitated, grasping at the first thing that came to mind to hold Maria's little sister back, "Shouldn't we let your mother know?" she said. The girl whirled around and glared at Madge, her black eyes flashing indignation and contempt as she hissed, "Esa bruja no es mi madre."


  1. ¡Ella no es su madre? ¿Entonces quién es ella?

  2. Esto será revelada como los progesses de la historia.
    And no, Cormac. I don't really know how to speak spanish. These characters and their unreasonable demands...

  3. Yes, the characters in one's head are demanding taskmasters. Hablo suficiente español para conseguir mi burrito hecho justo como lo quiere, y para explicar a Los latinos que yo no hablo español. Yet in the near future, if you want something done in California, you're going to have to speak it as well as their equivalent of a first-grader (or at least have at the ready).

  4. It's okay. My boy don't speak Spanish either, but nicetranslator does. I like it.


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