Michael Hadfield
Bio
I write because I have to.
Stories (3/0)
The Shylock's Apprentice
The Shylock’s Apprentice There once was a boy called Mickey. He had a drunkard father whose name was Benny and a harlot mother, everyone called Cherry. They lived in a dark, dingy, rundown rowhome in what used to be, Olde Kensington. Lining the rest of their street were makeshift tents, housing the homeless fiends. Recycled syringes and garbage littered the pavement of what was commonly referred to as “tent city”.
By Michael Hadfield 3 years ago in Fiction
STRAYZ
“Ready?” she asks, before pressing play on the voice recorder. The prisoner pulls the oxygen mask from his face and throws it on the table. The wrinkles in his caramel-colored, weathered skin, fold around his mouth as he cracks a smile. He runs his hands through his tightly curled, salt and pepper-colored hair, slicking it back, before reaching for the box of Tasty-Kakes. Slowly, he opens the box and removes a pack. He flips the plastic wrapped Krimpet over and begins lightly rubbing the butterscotch frosted top on the steel table, in a clockwise motion, before unwrapping it.
By Michael Hadfield 3 years ago in Fiction