• David Harry Moss Leg Breakers by David Harry Moss

    The moon rushed through a black sky like the headlight of a speeding train. Stars glittered like chunks of a broken wine bottle. An ominous silence roared. Nick Hardin pulled the dark Grand Marquis behind a parked white Toyota. “What’s two nice guys like us doing in a neighborhood like this?” Nick asked. They were […]

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  • David Harry Moss NOGO by David Harry Moss

    In a rundown neighborhood in South Phoenix, Eddie Easy Deal Wilson parked his car in front of a shabby little house and swaggered to the front door. He heard violent coughing coming from inside. Good. Shifty Logan was home. The front door creaked open and a short white man with a pale haggard face and […]

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  • David Harry Moss Weed Farm by David Harry Moss

    On this cloudy autumn day I take the lite rail cross town through a tunnel under the river to the North Side. I scan a discarded newspaper on the clattering train, read about grisly murders that stretch from Canada through Michigan into Pennsylvania, a letter “S” carved on the female victim’s forehead, the “S” meaning […]

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  • David Harry Moss Night People by David Harry Moss

    From my bedroom window, on the second floor of a three story building I own at a busy city intersection, I can see the diner. Across the intersection from the diner is a bar that stays open late and across from the bar is a hotel. It is midnight and steady rain is falling. When […]

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