Tag Archives: crime

The Passing of a Prairie Dog.

Reblogged with kind permission.

The Opus of a Jaybird.

By Jay St John Knight


All that’s left to show for my old pa is this piece of junk car. It can barely outrun a coyote on the straight and I’m sure it wouldn’t hit the state line without falling apart. Piece o’ shit same as him.

My stomach won’t stop rumbling. Haven’t eaten in two days and it’s too hot out to go hunting on the prairie. Ain’t had a nickel for food since I was dropped from the farm and no one wants to hire a nobody who ain’t ever been to school. So I gotta do what I gotta do. If that means sticking up gas stations and shops for a few bucks then so be it.

There’s one now. A little shop in the middle of nowhere, probably run by an old-timer too. He won’t kick up a fuss. Easy pickings. Got me a shooter too…

View original post 612 more words

Chasing Shadows

Reblogged with kind permission.

The Opus of a Jaybird.

By Jay St John Knight


There was no traffic about on the roads as PC Anne Coldine and her partner drove their route. An indigo sky fought with the tentative rays of sunlight as dawn crawled its way over the horizon. They were on their routine patrol, cruising up and down the streets of one of Hammerside’s nightclub districts, keeping the peace. She had forgotten the amount of tickets she’d written for public urination. Or the amount of times she’d advised inconsolable friends who had fallen out to ‘just sleep on it’. Back at the station they called these shifts the ‘parent patrols’. She could see why. Her partner pulled a right down Eustene Street and drifted past a kebab shop that was closing up.

“I reckon their jobs are harder than ours on nights like these.” Tom said as he nodded towards one of the workers mopping up vomit…

View original post 462 more words

The Man Who Ate Stones.

Reposted with kind permission.

The Opus of a Jaybird.

By Jay St John Knight.


This piece was intended as an extract from the beginning of a larger work of detective/noir fiction, potentially a novel, and was an exercise in trying to write something outside of my genre comfort zone. Feel free to let me know what you think in the comment box below.


The tungsten bulbs in the hallway are cold and the corridor sways with me as I zigzag off the walls. She keeps talking, asking inane questions about the neighbours and the local cafes and bars. I respond with grunts of affirmation, not listening, not caring. The key struggles to find its way into the lock. She laughs and I can smell the red wine and cigarettes on her breath. Key meets lock and we burst in. The apartment is dark save the fingers of amber that reach out through the blinds. I ask her if she wants…

View original post 613 more words