Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Criminal.
The Black Books
The Black Books The narrow stairs spiral down into the dark café. It’s the only café in Chicago that boasts a brooding atmosphere. Dim lighting and booths with dark upholstery. I strain my eyes as I make my way to the back near the bar, then smash my hipbone into the corner of the table as I plop down in a booth across from Sam.
By Andrea Perno5 years ago in Criminal
Two Wrongs
Roger sat in the old bar chair nursing a drink in one hand and smoking a cigarette in the other. He stared off into nothing as he went over more excuses, he could give his wife as to why he lost another job. “Ro” she’d say in exasperation. “This is the third job this month. How are we ever going to be a family when you can’t even support the two of us”. He smirked as he imagined walking up to her and kissing her perfect pink lips before placing a kiss on her forehead.
By Blue Dymond5 years ago in Criminal
Old Notes
“That’s a lot of money.” “But is it good money?” I looked at Pete. I was about to say that that was a stupid question, but then, to be honest, I had briefly wondered the same thing myself, so I guess it wasn’t so stupid after all. It was old money, anybody could see that, two thick bundles of one hundred dollar bills stuffed in a decaying wooden box laid open on the floor in front of us.
By John Thornquist5 years ago in Criminal
Destination Unknown
Mary stood outside the club and looked at her phone. It wasn’t very late. A quiet sob escaped her throat as she searched for the Uber app and set up a ride home. Friday night, likely a ride will come quickly, she thought, trying to steady her breathing. She knew her face was a mess, but the crowds walking by and the long line of people waiting to get into the club paid no attention to her. She focused on the little car moving across the map on the phone, willing it to arrive quickly and take her away from the loud music and noisy people.
By T. Larissa Fogleman 5 years ago in Criminal
The Little Black Book
In the grand scheme of things, there were much worse ways to spend the day than picking up a notebook from routine repairs. It helped that the local bookbinder ran his shop just down the street from my apartment building. I would pop in, drop off my notebook, and in a few weeks I'd get a call to come pick it up. I got such a call this morning, and I had enough free time to stop by the following afternoon.
By Samira Daukoru5 years ago in Criminal
The Confession
Father Leonard Spencer slumped into the fatigued oak chair in the center compartment of the confessional at St. Rita’s. Sliding the parched, wooden panel to his right revealed the carved, ancient face of a twisted cripple, leaning forward on the wall. No telling how long he’d been there.
By Carl Reinelt5 years ago in Criminal
Conning the Jones'
When I started out, this was only supposed to be one gig. In this messed up, keeping up with the Jones', American dream bullshit life you don't always have a choice. Some kids have all the luck; their parents are happy, every damn wish is granted. Their living rooms overflow with boxes of shit they don't even know they don't need under their massive Christmas trees. Everything is planned for them. I mean, shit, they probably had college money put away before they were born.
By Theresa Garcia5 years ago in Criminal
