On the Road to Exile and Other Short Stories
()
About this ebook
Michael Morris
A fifth-generation native of Perry, Florida, a rural area near Tallahassee, Michael Morris knows southern culture and characters. It is the foundation and inspiration for the stories and novels he writes. Upon graduating from Auburn University, Michael worked for U.S. Senator Bob Graham and then became a sales representative for pharmaceutical companies. As a sales representative, Michael decided to follow a life-long desire and began writing in the evenings. The screenplay he penned during this time is still someplace in the bottom of a desk drawer. It is when Michael accepted a position in government affairs and moved to North Carolina that he began to take writing more seriously. While studying under author Tim McLaurin, Michael started writing the story that would eventually become his first novel, A Place Called Wiregrass. The novel was released in April, 2002 and is currently in its third printing. A Place Called Wiregrass was named a Booksense 76 selection by members of the American Independent Booksellers Association as and is part of the southern literature curriculum at two universities. Michael's latest novel, Slow Way Home, will be released by Harper Collins on September 23 and his work can be seen in the southern anthology Stories From The Blue Moon Café II. Michael and his wife, Melanie, reside in Fairhope, Alabama.
Read more from Michael Morris
Slow Way Home: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Place Called Wiregrass Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Live Like You Were Dying Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsEscape from Saigon: A Novel Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsTHE ONE LEFT BEHIND Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsGoing Viral: COVID-19 and the Accelerated Transformation of Jobs in Latin America and the Caribbean Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsYour Life, Your Way: An Introduction to the Foundation Forty Lifestyle Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsConfronting Drought in Africa's Drylands: Opportunities for Enhancing Resilience Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Related to On the Road to Exile and Other Short Stories
Related ebooks
Once Upon A... What? Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThey All Died Screaming Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5In Bloom Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Closer to You: Grindstone Harbor, #1 Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Medici Dagger Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Midnight Black Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Map of the Edge: Coming of Age in the Sixties Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDate Night Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Pinball Theory of Apocalypse: A Novel Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Thick As Thieves: A Brother, a Sister--a True Story of Two Turbulent Lives Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Massacre Mountain Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Electric Barracuda: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Scape Goat for Murder: Frankie Chandler, Pet Psychic, #6 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDamselfish Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMuscle Cars Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Victims: Part 2 | A Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Science Fiction Novel Series Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsTrouble and Treasure Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsOn Picking Fruit: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Carry Me Home Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAngels, Devils and Demons in Derry Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMerciless Mayhem: Mayhem Series, #8 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Serpent Club Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5When Seas Die: A Science Fiction Trilogy By: Anthony L. Williams Book-I a Gift from Beyond Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsWild Animals I Have Known Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Masterpiece: Mikky dos Santos Thrillers, #1 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDead Souls: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Trident Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Trio of Tales Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Prince of Brooklyn Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCodex Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Short Stories For You
The Stories of Ray Bradbury Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Little Birds: Erotica Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Nineteen Claws and a Black Bird: Stories Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The Ocean at the End of the Lane: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Things They Carried Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Two Scorched Men Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Good Man Is Hard To Find And Other Stories Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Five Tuesdays in Winter Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Skeleton Crew Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Jackal, Jackal: Tales of the Dark and Fantastic Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Warrior of the Light: A Manual Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5100 Years of the Best American Short Stories Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Philip K. Dick's Electric Dreams Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Lovecraft Country: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas: A Story Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Explicit Content: Red Hot Stories of Hardcore Erotica Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Finn Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Four Past Midnight Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Ficciones Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5So Late in the Day: Stories of Women and Men Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Paper Menagerie and Other Stories Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Grimm's Complete Fairy Tales Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Novices of Lerna Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Sex and Erotic: Hard, hot and sexy Short-Stories for Adults Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Related categories
Reviews for On the Road to Exile and Other Short Stories
0 ratings0 reviews
Book preview
On the Road to Exile and Other Short Stories - Michael Morris
About the Author
The author was a Combat Engineer (1983–1987) and Psychiatric Technician (1992–2019). He graduated from SSU in 1992. He has spent his life straddling the fence between the righteous and the wicked, between poetry and pragmatism, thinking and doing, getting laid and getting serious, going out for a walk and coming back.
Dedication
I dedicate this book to Paloma Grrrr. She was my fuzzy white appendage who snarled and snapped at anyone who ventured to near. No one will ever know me as she did.
Copyright Information ©
Michael Morris 2024
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Ordering Information
Quantity sales: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data
Morris, Michael
On the Road to Exile and Other Short Stories
ISBN 9781638292418 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781638294184 (ePub e-book)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023916173
www.austinmacauley.com/us
First Published 2024
Austin Macauley Publishers LLC
40 Wall Street, 33rd Floor, Suite 3302
New York, NY 10005
USA
+1 (646) 5125767
Acknowledgment
I would like to thank Katherine Bourgerie, Lou Shaw Tim Dennis, Mack Inman, Tod Vidrine, Justin Barnes, John Ahlborn, Bennet Cullison, Peter Hines, Elenore Wehrman, Jeff Capeheart, Melissa Saput, Vanessa Carter, Ingrid Newman, and all the guys at One Eyed Winkys.
On the Road to Exile
The Story of a Burro Who Became an Ass
Someone’s in the backyard,
Scott whispered nervously. He was on his knees, in the dining room, peering at me from behind the bookshelf. On the floor beside him were his cigarettes, an ashtray, his binoculars, a stack of girly magazines, dirty dishes, and a dart gun. The air was dank and heavy with the smell of body odor mixed with propane and hot glue. Whatever it was that Scott was doing…he’d been doing it all night.
What are you doing—
I started but Scott instantly raised his finger to his lips and scolded me.
Shhhhhh,
he hissed. I froze instantly and listened as the sound of heavy boots and equipment came lumbering up the driveway, past the main entrance, and continued into the backyard. It was 07:00 am.
I tip-toed toward the window and with my back against the wall, tried to catch a glimpse of the invaders but all I saw was the cloud of dust that followed in the wake of their passing and the faint outline of a sombrero.
Who is it,
Scott whispered. I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, then using both hands I drew the outline of a sombrero and put it on my head.
SHIT!
Scott sounded like a sneezing Chihuahua. SHIT-SHIT-SHIT!
He grabbed his binoculars and hobbled toward me. He was still squatting, his butt bouncing off his ankles with each labored step. To retain his balance, he held his hands high above his head, the palms of his hands parallel with the floor. The similarities between himself and a shuffling Orangutan were remarkable. As Scott came ambling across the linoleum, I heard the unmistakable sounds of footsteps approaching the house from the direction of the backyard. When Scott realized what was happening, he froze in mid-step, turned ghost white, clasped his hands together beneath his chin, and started babbling nonsense. He was confused, terrified, and started asking a lot of bizarre questions.
Is it the Mexican—huh? What? Mommy? Cha-Cha?
He had the look of a man who was preparing to pound sand up to his ass with a hammer.
Scott—
I whispered forcefully, —SCOTT!
There was a long silence. I could hear the secondhand tic toc across the face of a clock hanging from the wall in another room. I could hear the beads of sweat dropping from Scott’s nose onto the kitchen floor, …-plop-plop-plop-…
Whoever was outside our back door was standing motionless. The suspense was crippling.
Boom-Boom…
the first steps on the back porch sounded like bombs exploding. It was enough to shake Scott from his catatonic state. He shrieked and galloped, like a lumbering donkey, on his hands and knees, across the hardwood floor, down the hallway to his bedroom in the flash of an instant, sounding like a charging Choo-choo train Shit-Shit-Shit-Shit…
I remained crouched beneath the window waiting for the Mexican Mafia to burst through the back door and hack us to death with machetes. I was on the verge of making a run for it when I heard a familiar voice on the porch.
No’o—because you don’t need your raincoat—I don’t care what Rex said, the answer is still NOOOO—
It was Kathy, the mother of my children. I hadn’t seen her in over a year. I couldn’t believe it. ‘Knock-Knock-Knock’ but before I could answer it, the backdoor burst open and there she stood, in the doorway of my laundry room framed by the morning sun, wearing a sombrero the size of a mushroom cloud.
What a surprise!
I was breathless and relieved. She looked me up and down.
I just got into town.
Her voice was dry as the Arizona desert.
Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? How long has it been?
I gushed while smiling ear to ear, elated that she wasn’t an assassin sent to murder my roommate.
It’s been over a year and what do you mean you didn’t know I was coming, you invited me? Remember?
She had just survived an epic journey across 1000 miles of high desert and congested highways and was in no mood for quaint misunderstandings.
I’m drawing a blank. When ahh…when was that exactly,
I started.
Last time we spoke on the phone…
She was glaring at me.
That was three months ago!
I stated, We never heard back from you, so we figured…you must’ve…changed your mind or something.
I didn’t change my mind, I got here as soon as I could,
she barked while looking at a thick bed of dust that carpeted a network of cobwebs hanging horizontally along the walls and ceiling of the laundry room. She wore the look of a mercy killer.
You could’ve walked here in three months,
I stated with obvious sarcasm, she was not amused. She had taken a cigar out of her breast pocket and nibbled a piece off one end of it. So how did you get here?
I asked.
She took a step backward and then pointed toward my backyard. Rex,
was all she said.
Rex huh?
I insinuated, uncertain if I was ready to meet this guy she was traveling