Lance Hendrickson
Stories (9)
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Time and Distance
“Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.” Those words derailed my life. Again. Well, I mean, it wasn’t the words themselves that set me off. Shoot, they don’t even make sense. Then again, I suppose they do, now. To me. In a way, I guess.
By Lance Hendrickson3 years ago in Fiction
New Frontiers
Seattle was at its rainy drabbest, unusually so for August, when my ringing phone added voltage to my hangover one Friday. Determined spatters on my downtown loft’s oversized windows made the place look like it was going through a car wash, and the gray light of an overcast noon matched my mood to a T.
By Lance Hendrickson4 years ago in Fiction
On the Lone Prairie
Trey Jackson was well on his way to leaving McGee Chalmers, LLP. And he knew it. None of the MC partners had told him that yet, so perhaps, arguably, he didn’t technically ‘know.’ And it wasn’t something he wanted to do. He liked most of his colleagues, and he needed the healthy paycheck.
By Lance Hendrickson4 years ago in Fiction
By Its Cover
Alejandra Sanchez wasn’t dressed for a rodeo. For that matter, she wasn’t dressed for Wichita Falls, Texas, either. Her bespoke business suit and tony heels were an infinitely better match for downtown Dallas, where she’d woken up that Thursday in her pricey downtown loft, and where she spent her weekdays litigating nine-figure commercial cases in skyscrapers and courtrooms.
By Lance Hendrickson4 years ago in Fiction
Hail, Hail!
Rock and roll is, often, deadly. I’m supposed to say I don’t know why that is. But I do. And I’m not talking about plane crashes or car wrecks. I’m saying, from its genesis, and by its inherent, undeniable nature, rock and roll, itself, kills people. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it, I suppose, to the extent that one can ‘live’ someone else’s death.
By Lance Hendrickson4 years ago in Fiction
Life By Chocolate
Kaycee Keller didn’t have a job after law school. Not as a lawyer, anyway. She passed the bar exam on her first try. But her grades didn’t rank in the top third of her class, and her school wasn’t among the top third, either. So instead of donning a business suit and writing complex commercial documents in a skyscraper, a month after she was sworn-in to the bar she found herself wearing a green apron and mixing complex caffeinated beverages.
By Lance Hendrickson5 years ago in Fiction
And So It Was
In 2021 the U.S. Census Bureau accidentally omitted Michigan’s Upper Peninsula from one of its maps. That wasn’t an uncommon mishap. Because despite its geographic size the “U.P.” had always been an isolated, generally-forgotten place, even after the bridge spanning the Straits of Mackinac opened in 1957.
By Lance Hendrickson5 years ago in Fiction
Departures
DEPARTURES Kendra Pierce wasn’t the worst client I ever represented. Not nearly. Heck, she wasn’t even the guiltiest. About a third of the times she’d been booked (that I know of) she hadn’t technically committed crimes. Herself, that is. In those cases, anyway. In about another third, she didn’t have to face the music because of what I call “police training deficiencies.” And up until this thing happened, I’d never dealt with the feds for anything about her. The worst, I’ve known. Kendra wasn’t that.
By Lance Hendrickson5 years ago in Criminal
