Consolidating Fiction onto One Site

I’m consolidating my fiction, short stories, and memoir’s web presence onto one sight.

Antonio Dias Fiction

a Novel of Provincetown before WWI

“Giving up on all optimism and pessimism, one is free to be courageous; one places no trust in tools and instruments; one comes to hope based on human beings.”

Ivan Illich

Departure…

A last corner of net ran from Sammy’s fingers down to where Josey and Stevie walked it into place, avoiding the potential snags of the ladder and the masses of barnacles and mussels that coated the lower reaches of the pilings alongside.  Joe C. bent down clearing space in front of the engine’s flywheel, getting ready to crank it over as Antone appeared on the dock and swung down onto the foredeck from the waist of a dragger alongside.  Lacking the agility to attempt the ladder at this state of tide, he made his way from the dockside to the foc’sle of a dragger, crossing its deck to the outboard boat, and dropping over the rail with a huff and a thud.  Catching his breath, he took the last few feet of net as it was lowered and folded it on top of the rest, picking up the work without preface or prelude.  Brief nods of recognition passed between him and the others.

The Sudio, chapter 25

Shoal Hope

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| Twenty-five |

*

The Studio

*

Albert slapped down a quarter on the counter and swiveled away on his stool, a half-chewed toothpick in his clenched jaw, bits of bacon popped smokey flavor on his tongue, the feel of egg yoke lingered on his front teeth.

“Thanks!” He said in feeble gratitude.

After six months frequenting this counter, he knew the soda-man on sight, but hadn’t made as much as small talk with him in all that time. He felt self-conscious getting up to leave after sitting there eating in silence in front of the guy, yet again.