Alex Carrick’s Blog

“China has one. Why can’t we?” Trevor Deeds was reading a quote from a magazine article while he waited for his appointment at the doctor’s office. The featured story examined a number of proposals to build a wall across the entire U.S.-Mexican border. Several artists’ renderings were included. There was speculation it might need to be […]

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There were several reasons why Giles’ mood was tanking. First, there was the change in seasons. Summer was only a degree or two away from turning into fall. Giles loved the summer. He lived in a northern clime and the winters were long and harsh. The cold weather, when he’d been a child, had encompassed […]

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Milton Spofford III’s colleagues in the press were bitterly jealous. Fresh out of journalism school, “Spiffy” was as nervous as he could ever imagine being. He’d won the lottery to conduct an exclusive interview with the Queen at a time when Her Highness and family were experiencing a resurgence of interest in Great Britain and […]

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This story is based on a popular joke which I believe has the wrong punch line, that a talking dog turns out to be a big liar. If one starts with the conclusion, then what might the background be? Also, please be sure to read the supplementary section in italics at the end of this tale. […]

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It was late of an evening and I’d run out of milk and snacks. Besides, I wanted some fresh air. That’s how it came about I was on my way to the local Daisy Mart before it closed at ten p.m. You don’t get fog in the city much anymore. Too much traffic. There’s an […]

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Please note: The following story was awarded an Honorable Mention in the 2011 Lorian Hemingway Short Story Competition. He’d gotten himself into this mess by volunteering. That’s what happens when you’re an eager beaver. He’d never been one before and he wouldn’t be one next time. What had he been thinking? Surely he knew better […]

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Time: the present. Location: the upstairs master bedroom of a fabulous mansion on Long Island’s Gold Coast. Greta, the maid, knocked on the open door to give advance warning and walked thirty feet to the nightstand. She deposited the breakfast tray and acknowledged with a slight bow the thank you from the Mrs. on the […]

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The following is essentially a monologue as two men face each other, standing on the sidewalk of a small town’s Main Street in Midwest America. The date is the present, on a beautiful spring morning, a time of year when some things need nipping in the bud. The burly one, dressed in a dun-colored uniform […]

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Mille Feuille hated and loved the Mix Master. Both were stars in their tiny firmament. They were on the faculty of the English Department at a smallish but well-respected university in Peterborough, Ontario. The academic life in such a small community was a tiny whirlwind of activity that mimicked the larger vortex in nearby Toronto […]

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Apparently I have more of these kinds of stories in me. I view them as narrative, but my wife says they’re poetry. Please feel free to decide for yourself. ** All was peace and future blindness, not to know, a blessed kindness. A family strolls a hidden laneway, gently descending to sandy beach. Poplar ushers […]

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