Kenneth Lawson
Bio
Baby Boomer, Writer, Connoisseur of all things Classic: Movies, Television, Music, Vinyl, Cars, also a lover of technology.
I write stories that bend genres and cross the boundries of time and space.
Stories (48/0)
Spy VS Spy
A frigid wind blew through the street as I sat watching the line of old sheds along Canal Street. One of them was a dead drop. I waited patiently, sitting in a car as old as the sheds, trying to blend in, in the rough part of town. I watched a man drop a soda can carefully into the bushes in front of the shed with the blue door—a standard drop method. When a blue Mercedes pulled up, I was happy my patience had paid off.
By Kenneth Lawsonabout a year ago in Fiction
Ghost Story
All that Jason saw were the trees and the narrow road that ran between them. The gnarly trees covered the road so thoroughly that the sky wasn’t visible beyond them. Fog covered everything, making the trees even darker. A cool breeze made him shiver, adding to his sense of dread.
By Kenneth Lawsonabout a year ago in Fiction
The Bridge Of Time
The cold wind that blew across the bridge made me feel as ancient as the structure I was standing on. Leaning against the stone rail, I closed my eyes, imagining the clunk of horse hooves striking the stone, the rattle of chains, and the shouting over the clatter made by wheels of the chariots as they came across the bridge. I opened my eyes, but there was nothing to see but the distant horizon. I looked down at the roadbed at the grooves from hundreds of wooden wheels covering the same ground day after day for centuries.
By Kenneth Lawsonabout a year ago in Fiction
Key Eighteen
The key for the door to vault eighteen had been missing for centuries. It was the last of the old vault rooms in the castle anyone had explored. The solid wood planks and steel reinforcements had made forcing the door impossible, and no one tried despite the legend that there was a fortune in treasure behind the door. A whispered legend of crown jewels his family had kept safe for the monarchy.
By Kenneth Lawsonabout a year ago in Fiction
Family Tradition
The old radio brought back memories. Deep in the recess of his mind, he remembered hearing the old music blaring from the speaker of his grandfather’s radio. Today music played on gadgets that did things that would shock his grandfather. Sometimes, it shocked him.
By Kenneth Lawsonabout a year ago in Fiction
The Way Home
The sound of seagulls and water lapping against the edges of the sand brought him back to reality. Shifting around in the low beach chair, he found muscles he had forgotten about had fallen asleep. His bones cracked and popped as he extracted himself from the rickety beach chair.
By Kenneth Lawsonabout a year ago in Fiction
Just Another Morning in LA
Spanky Arnold was a nasty piece of work. I’d run into him a couple of times, leaving me wanting to take a long hot shower. As a PI, I often dealt with the underbelly of the City of Angels. But Spanky was in a league of his own. The cops had been trying to put his ass in jail since the war ended several years ago.
By Kenneth Lawsonabout a year ago in Fiction