The following is an original piece, written by Holly A. Phillips in 2007. It’s a story based on her favorite hockey player, Sean Avery. Read previous sections of this story here, here, here, here, and here (okay, so it’s kind of long). Walking usually cleared my mind, but it was still buzzing when I reached […]
MoreThe following is an original piece, written by Holly A. Phillips in 2007. It’s a story based on her favorite hockey player, Sean Avery. Read previous sections of this story here, here, here, and here (okay, so it’s kind of long). “You can sit down,” she said. I took her word and sat on the […]
MoreThe following is an original short story, written by Holly A. Phillips in 2007, inspired by her favorite NHL player, Sean Avery. Read part one, two, and three, if you’re interested… “Bro, damn, where you going?” 12 asked. “Out there…you know,” I said. “Haven’t seen you head that way in… Well, ever,” he said. “Uh […]
MoreThe following is an original piece of fiction written by Holly A. Phillips in 2007. The story was inspired by her favorite hockey player, Sean Avery. Catch up by reading part one and part two. We practiced in a smaller rink right outside the city. Practice began at nine and after warm-ups, drills, and weights; […]
MoreWe played the Wolverines in the Square three days after we killed the Flyers. I had just walked into the locker room when the usual pre-game banter sparked. “Who you gonna piss off tonight man?” 58 asked. “I heard Carmen was pretty irritable. I bet I can shake a fucker up,” I told him. “Dude […]
MoreThe following is an original fiction piece, written by Holly A. Phillips in 2007, with great inspiration form her favorite hockey player, Sean Avery. I had 30 seconds left in the penalty box. From my bench, I could see the rows of puck fucks in the lower sections. “Once we go Black…” one sign read; […]
MoreBack at the shop, Charlie sat in his black leather chair, the one with the holes worn in it, and waited for someone to mosey over to his corner. Occasionally, he’d read part of a book from the wire racks up front, but mostly he’d study his art magazines. Charlie’s station was clean, except for […]
More
The Bitter Lemon 