Archive for September, 2007

Walking Amsterdam

He was waiting for his luggage at Schiphol Airport when he spotted her. She was wearing the somber, seal-gray coat he had given her last Christmas, and it was only the crimson in the scarf at her throat that caught his eye. They had decided it was silly for her to meet his plane. He had outlined the reasons against it; she nodded her acceptance. But here she was anyway looking lovely, standing as still and pale as a porcelain figurine amidst the stolid Dutch pea-soupers in their bulky winter dress. Almost involuntarily, his hand rose in a greeting. She placed one gloved hand up to the glass in response and smiled. The delicacy of her movement encapsulated all that he loved about her.

Moments later, he pulled his bags off the carousel and walked quickly through the ‘Nothing to Declare’ gate. She turned for his kiss and they bumped noses. He wondered whether other married couples miss each other’s lips as frequently as they did.

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Plan C

Stuart eased the Accord onto the Van Nuys off ramp and glanced at his rearview mirror. Shit. “Check it out, Eddie. White Navigator getting off, been behind us for a while now.”

Eddie took a look at the sideview mirror. “First of all, that’s an Escalade. Don’t hold a candle to the Navigator. Second, it was a QX4 behind us before. Turned off a couple, three miles back. The Escalade got on after that.”

Stuart said, “Maybe they’re using two vehicles.”

“You thinking they’re cops?”

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Bio: Neal Marks

Neal Marks is a law-abiding citizen who pays all his taxes, observes every traffic regulation, and never bets with bookies. Writing crime fiction is as close as he gets to lawlessness. He and his wife live in Encino, California. You can reach him at nealmarks2000@aol.com.

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At the End of the Rainbow

She always said paint was cheap. And so I’d arrive home to find the kitchen yellow, the bathroom light green, or the den a different off-white. These weren’t what she called the colors, but that’s what they were nevertheless.

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Taking Van der Flieder’s Star

“In 1592, one hundred years after Columbus discovered the Americas, Johann Van der Flieder and sixty-one men landed on a small island off the coast of Maine. That was in the summer. Their ship left them with a supply of tools, food, weapons, and water. They spent the remainder of the summer building two longhouses to use as barracks, and a small command post for Van der Flieder and two officers along with a surgeon.

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