Monday, July 09, 2018

The Case of the Walkaway Blues – New Fiction – Kruze, Marpel

The Case of the Walkaway Blues - New Fiction Writing by J. R. Kruze & S. H. MarpelThey didn’t know that they were going to solve a mystery that had raged across decades. The mystery that tore down Mary’s heart and soul to pieces.

She sat at the diner only to drown her sorrows in their famous apple pie with cinnamon-vanilla ice cream.

John only came to sample their famous dessert he’d heard about all over town.

Mary had just found out that she’d been lied to for years. The truth can hurt. It’s those emotional claws and shrieks you have to deal with personally. And that’s what Mary hated worst.

John knew all about lies. He was a writer who could spin a tale with the best of them. He knew how to spot a liar, and how to find out why they were lying.

Once Mary understood what he knew, she’d be able to decide if she wanted revenge – or just walk away…

The Case of the Walkaway Blues – New Short Fiction by J. R. Kruze and S. H. Marpel (13 pages)

Excerpt:

I came for the pie – to glue back together the pieces of my broken heart.

Comfort food. That’s why I got the ice cream on top.

Apple pie. Something wholesome. All-American. Innocent.

Like the innocence and beliefs in America I’d lost long ago.

Not just any ice cream. They stocked a special cinnamon-vanilla ice cream which turned their apple pie into a piece of heaven. One that gave meaning to the phrase “pie in the sky.”

Perfect for soaking the pain out of my soul, for mending the rips in my heart that the lies had left.

I hardly noticed the man who sat on the counter stool next to me. The place was packed this time of day, the usual lunch crowd. And their blue-plate special was nearly as good as their dessert.

But nothing mattered to me more than the ice cream in front of me. One small bite at a time. Getting all the comfort out of it I could.

“Is she having your famous apple pie a la mode? Please give me a slice just like hers.” The man spoke in a Midwestern accent, obviously not from around here. i only glanced at the sleeve of his tan corduroy jacket. While his hand was lined from use, its light tan showed he got outside to work. Might even be a visitor to the city.

My thoughts turned back to my ice cream. Even the term “city” brought back the anguish I’d only started realizing days before. When I found out the secret that had been hidden all this time….

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