Skip to content
  • Home
  • Memoirs of an Exile
  • Short Stories and Anecdotes
  • Opinion
  • Poetry
  • About

Bradford Windley

Memoirs of an Exile, 1

Initiating Translation of Water Echoes: First, if you have found, and translated this record please do not assume it is ancient, and do not assume it is of human craft—though I understand why you might assume such. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is best rendered through your vocalized form of communication as Asumande […]Read Post ›

Horace Bulgroin

Horace Bulgroin slept with his feet uncovered. He was lying in his bed, nearly asleep, when he felt it–a warm hand on his foot. Horace tensed, but managed to control his breathing to maintain the illusion of sleep. The forced deep breaths seemed to take more oxygen than they brought in with each inflation of his […]Read Post ›

The Townfrit Murders

Elaine Townfrit had always been suspicious of her husband’s beard. Ever since it started growing it had seemed to have a mind of its own, and now that it had grown past his waist she was sure of it. Often it seemed to change position without him noticing. It would find its way into soups, […]Read Post ›

Subject 304

9:00am October 10, 1912 – Austin State Penitentiary Subject – James McAllister, 32, Irish, short and thin with wily eyes. Subject comes in on crutches and sits. He is quite animated. I prompt him to tell me how it happened. I’m the kind of person that can feel things, feel them in my gut before […]Read Post ›

 Un Vaso de Auga

Susan Stars lived alone. She was 41, white, and corpulent. Susan worked Monday through Friday at Vincent’s Hardware, spent Saturdays keeping her yard trim, and Sundays in worship. Susan was predictable, though the word she preferred was ‘dependable.’ She loved yard statues, collected them, and secretly thought her yard should win the local gardening awards. […]Read Post ›

Waiting

Melvin was 85 and his daughter had tried to move him to an “assisted living facility” many times. She only relented when Melvin swore he would off himself if she did. Melvin trundled to his Buick Regal, gripped the handle, and lurched into the driver’s seat. Melvin swapped his reading glasses for his driving ones, looked in […]Read Post ›

Erosion

“Liza, I know you’re new to this marriage thing, but trust me when I say it’s better to just let him have his head.” Liza’s mother washed the dishes with her back to Liza. Liza swung her feet against the cabinets. “These things take time. You won’t change him all at once. You have to […]Read Post ›

549 Days

“Hello, my name is Keith. I am an addict, and it has been 549 days since my last use.” Everyone clapped enthusiastically. He even got a few whistles. He felt her stare from across the room. Keith sat down in the circle. He didn’t look around the circle, just set his elbows on his knees and held […]Read Post ›

Number 7

“And I’ll have a number seven,” June said. The waiter wrote down her order and moved to the kitchen. Her boyfriend, Leo, sat across from her. He stared at the ground. His leg was crossed and he tapped his foot vigorously to an unseen drum. “You know it’s not a number seven,” he said. “Huh?” “It’s […]Read Post ›

The Pasture

It was well known to the residents of the pasture that the fence was there for their own protection. The fence kept out the beasts of the forest, dangerous weather, and other unseen, as well as incomprehensible, dangers. The fence was there for the resident’s protection. They built it, maintained it, and taught it, “The fence […]Read Post ›

Posts navigation

← Older posts
Newer posts →
Blog at WordPress.com.
Bradford Windley
Blog at WordPress.com.
  • Follow Following
    • Bradford Windley
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Bradford Windley
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...