Pitt Griffin
Bio
Stories (30/0)
The Brownstone Murder
She had been beautiful in life, and Detective Sergeant Roy Yadav thought she made a fine-looking corpse. The small, precise bullet wound made a red bindi on her forehead. The dark blood pooling around her pale blond hair, lustrous in the harsh crime scene lights, gave the body an angelic aura.
By Pitt Griffin4 months ago in Criminal
A boy who wanted to be judged for who he was
I was born lucky by conventional standards. And by almost all other standards, for all I know. My gender (male) matched my physical sex. My sexuality (straight) met social approval. My skin color (white) matched everyone else who lived on my street and went to my schools. In England, it gave me membership in the privileged race.
By Pitt Griffin4 months ago in Humans
- Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge
The Obstultancy of Unearned WealthRunner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge
Standing porcine at the Soho gallery’s opening night, Burton was free with his opinions. Although he knew little about art. And had never heard of this season’s fresh, must-see talent. He was a heavy man, marked with a drunk’s rosacea. When he talked, which was most of the time, he droned with monotonic, unintelligent certainty - sucking the light out of the r00m like a mindless black hole.
By Pitt Griffin6 months ago in Fiction
The imposition
Dear reader, as what follows is a chapter from the middle of my memoir, permit me to offer some needed detail. Otherwise, you may find yourself wondering what the hell is going on. First, an introduction. I was born a New Yorker who, owing to circumstances beyond my control, was raised from before memory by loving but occasionally error-prone American parents in London.
By Pitt Griffin7 months ago in Chapters
Breaking the ice
I was a contrarian as a schoolboy. I hated to do what I was told. And in school, I was often told to write. So, I hated writing. After I left school, I took a gap year before I went to university. That winter, I lived in a vacation town on the Jersey Shore. Back then, people observed the seasonal landmarks. After Labor Day, the town was almost deserted.
By Pitt Griffin7 months ago in Writers
Growing up
Bear with me, please. I will tell you about the book that started it all. But if I merely ripped the wrapping off my story and laid it on the table, it would be incomplete. I would have shown you my after picture, with no image of how I was before. So permit me to start a while back with the author - and work my way forward.
By Pitt Griffin8 months ago in BookClub
- Runner-Up in Pitch Your Pilot Challenge
Achilles BeachRunner-Up in Pitch Your Pilot Challenge
Mise-en-scène The series opens at the Achilles Beach Resort. A grand old pink stucco Mediterranean-style hotel replete with classic coastal decor and elements - barley twist columns, rattan furniture, Moroccan tile, pecky cypress ceilings.
By Pitt Griffin10 months ago in Humor
The Stuff that Dreams Are Made of
There are two ways to profit from a gold rush. The suckers will head for the hills with their gold pans dreaming of wealth in the silt, grit, and muck of frigid streams. The thinking man will set up shop in the inevitable mining town. And sell supplies to the optimists full of piss and vinegar, too ignorant to know they are drawing to an inside straight. And thus it was when I opened for business as the sun rose on the line waiting at my store's door.
By Pitt Griffin10 months ago in History
The Perfectest Herald of Joy
“Silence is the perfectest herald of joy" - Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing When you are fourteen and sitting at a table in a ski lodge lounge with your best friend and two girls, you feel grown up and at sea. You have taken a bold step into adulthood, and it is an unfamiliar place.
By Pitt Griffin12 months ago in Humans
- Runner-Up in Tautogram Challenge