Jim Patterson
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Stories (4)
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A Force To Be Reckoned With
Jack was taken from the county jail to the ‘Deuel Vocational Institution’ in Tracy. The primary purpose of DVI is to serve as a reception center for newly committed prisoners to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation from northern California county jails.
By Jim Patterson4 years ago in Criminal
Kelly
It was Kelly’s 10th birthday on that eventful day. Her mother, Betty, was a single mom, and they lived in a small single wide trailer, which they were lucky to have. Betty’s only source of income came from State Disability. She was not a beautiful woman, quite average in looks, and extremely overweight. But that was not always the case. Ten years ago, she was a beautiful, full figured woman with long red hair and pouting lips. Now, she is 30 years old but looks more like 40.
By Jim Patterson4 years ago in Criminal
Thunder Stone
It was a hot and humid July evening when Jan walked up the sidewalk. She had just completed a double shift at the hospital where she worked as a nurse in the pediatric ward. As she climbed up the stairs of her front porch, she saw a package sitting by the front door. It had the Amazon logo, so she knew that it was the new coffeepot she had ordered a couple of days ago. She had stopped off at the grocery store and had her hands full with her purse and the grocery bag. When she tried to unlock the door, she missed getting the key into the lock, briefly stumbled and dropped the grocery bag. Mumbling to herself, she managed to retrieve the errant bag and got the door open. She walked directly into the kitchen and set the torn bag on the table. Still muttering to herself, she returned to the front porch to retrieve the package. As she stepped onto the porch, she noticed a new package wrapped in paper sitting on top of the Amazon box.
By Jim Patterson4 years ago in Fiction
The Locket
It all started on that beautiful day last month, on the pristine Broc beach we visited during our vacation to Istanbul, Turkey. My wife and I liked to stroll along the beach at the crack of dawn. It was easy to do because we had rented a small bungalow that sat just a few yards from the crystal-clear water of the Black Sea. On this morning, the sun had yet to rise but its rays had already turned the sky into a painters pallet of color.
By Jim Patterson5 years ago in Fiction
