"She's a local. The number’s in our area code.”
    “What makes you think she’s a ‘she’?”
    “Who else would text you this late on a Tuesday to tell you you’re cute? Unless you came out while we were...read more

“She's a local.” he said to himself.

He knew it as soon as he saw her shivering out there on the corner.

“Hey, sweetheart?” he leered out of the passenger-side window.

She didn’t look happy, but managed a convincing smile.

“You...read more

She's a local.  It was a shame, they said, for a chick to go out that way; head first in an alley garbage dumpster.  But that was the label they kept giving her when I asked neighbors about Lori Tuning's grisly demise.  She was just another tragic local.

I hated...read more

"She's a local."

The news anchor’s voice trailed off. Well, I wouldn’t say it trailed off, but rather I did—into a world of pure bliss. His voice was so manly, masculine that I know that he had to be the envy of every woman in town; not to mention maybe a male or two....read more

"She's a local." Mike warned me. "A townie."

"So," I said, with a mild protest. 

"Townies only exist for one reason - they're stuck here."

He was probably right. In this town of 90,000, one third were undergraduate...read more

She's a local. A Mississippi girl. Born Melinda Mary Wilcox, the daughter of the revered plantation owner Nigel Kay Wilcox and his equally famous wife Eris Wilcox (née Melantha). Her parents were also as much feared...read more

"She's a local."  Prada Franks leaned over the bar, whispering the information into the right ear of a man outfitted entirely in black. The man was tall with broad shoulders.  His granite handsome face featured a massive black mustache that drooped downwards, emphasizing...read more

"She's a local." I’d heard the whispered conversation as I entered the convenience store, quickly making my way to the restroom. Two college-age girls exiting the store pointed to the flyer clinging to the door. But the photo was outdated—they’d never recognized me now. In...read more

She's a local. That's the only thing I know about her.

Well, let me explain this from the beginning, from before I met her.

First of all; life is tough. This is a hard fact that everyone knows and learns. Even the people who are blessed with enjoyable...read more

"She's a local." Mona said in a voice that could only be achieved by a twenty year three packet a day habit. The pretty, wholesome brunette next to her turned with expressionless eyes towards the girl only to find that she was bundling up to leave.

It was a cold blustery day in a...read more

She's a local.

They all said that.  As if it excused her behavior.  She'd lived here all her life, years longer than most folks around here could count.  If you wanted local history, you came to her.  If you wanted local color, you came to her.  If you wanted...read more

She's a local. She cleans up frog shit in the swamps down the road, but she's got eyes that grab a man by the umbilical cord and stretch him out into the road wantin' more.

First time I seen her she was...read more

She's a local.

That's how we had originally found out about the park just a few miles south of downtown college town.  Now after half a year of exploring the park, it was a new semester and we were there again to enjoy the tail end of the summer weather, in the few days’...read more

"She's a local."

 Billy didn't like the way the man said that about his favorite waitress. So he...read more

  "She's a local." I said to myself when I first glimpsed her walking toward me.
   She had that confident stride of someone who was in familiar territory, and knows where she is...read more
			
			
		

            She's a local. She can be found here every night, every day of the week, and every weekend too. Everyone who works here has seen her come in and out, out and in, and in and out. It’s a routine familiar to everyone....read more

     She's a local.  That means she’s out of my league.  She might as well be wearing a ‘don’t even think about it, buddy’ sign, which means I’m doing nothing but.  I haven’t seen her before but I should have guessed she’s a...read more

"She's a local." The old man spoke gruffly around his mangled pipe stem.  He looked sideways at the young stranger, removed the pipe from his mouth, and spat through a sizeable gap in his front teeth.  “You’re not,” he pointed out in the same gravely voice. ...read more

           "She's a local." He indicated the ancient woman just stepping through the doorway.  “But, she’s the only one here can claim that.”

            Her...read more

She's a local.  This was evident to anyone who saw her.  She stopped along the street to talk to everyone she met.  She had the same relaxed gait as someone who’d lived their entire life in Breckenridge.  So John could not figure out why he didn’t know...read more

"She's a local. Born and bred wherever her parents decided to indulge their raging hormones.” Mildred said with a sigh in her voice. “It’s a shame no one knows who they are.”

The little girl across the street was jumping up and down in the almost foot deep...read more

She's a local.

                She’s a local. The words ran through his head, like a prayer, a childhood mantra similar to, there’s nothing under the bed. How wrong simple words could be. Every question he’d...read more

"She's a local.”  The old guy in overalls observed this with a gesture of his head then spat from his wad into the brick-paved alley that ran next to the hardware store.  A slick, brown spot on the red clay surface convicted him of prior offences.  He wouldn’t have...read more

She's a local. She's a criminal. She's wanted. And I'm her hostage.
It all started with my first babysitting job. I was going to babysit the newborn baby in the corner house at the end of my road when it happened. I knocked on the door and it creaked open. I could hear yelling from inside...read more

She's a local. Al heard an police officer with sunglasses say to another writing on a clipboard. He waited for the traffic light to change colors and the cars to clear, then walked over with his dog in tow, sniffing the smell of gasoline and burnt tires making its way through the air, to the man...read more

She's a local. 

She’s mysterious. She’s my grandmother. Grandma is very different, she believes in monsters under her bed. That’s why she only has a mattress. Just a week ago my Grandpa died so she is moving in with my family. Grandma is my mom’s mom and...read more

She's a local. In this town, that means people let “the poor girl” be. Eric doesn't know that. Back from the restroom, he slides onto the cracked-leather-coated stool next to her and fists his...read more

She's a local. Or at least she was.

They found her sitting near her camper by the dry creek bed up by the Meijer, wearing a Miami hat and typical old lady clothes. No one could remember her name, though she had been around forever, and her...read more

"She's a local." One of the men yelled in mock horror.

“Lady, you ain’t no goddamn local.” One of the other men sneered as he pushed the woman into the arms of his friends.

“You may not be a local,” the friend said as he caught her and held tightly...read more