Robert Harkey Fiction

By all means, please send away! Do you need an email address?

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 21:56:25 -0400

Oh man sorry I didn’t read your message right away. I never got a notification that you sent one! I’m still polishing it up a bit but it should be done within the next couple weeks. And yes I’d need an address. Sorry again for the super late reply.

anneboleyns: we are all fester

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 02:08:27 -0400

anneboleyns:

we are all fester

You've got a really interesting concept going on there! I would love to read more some time! :) In the event that you're stuck, perhaps we can bounce ideas off of each other? Being a writer myself and all. :)

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 23:33:00 -0400

I actually finished the first draft of the manuscript about six or seven weeks ago, but thanks for the offer. I’ll definitely let you know when it’s all finished and ready for amazon, and I’d love to hear what you think of it.

If you ever want to bounce ideas though you know where to find me. :D

I read your excerpt of 'The Buck Stops Here.' The detail you put into this is incredible! Is it a spy or a detective novel?

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 23:24:02 -0400

Oh wow thank you very much for saying so. The Buck Stops Here was originally the name of the chapter but I’ve since dropped that schtick. The book itself is called “Rival”

The main character and his brother were born to what I can only describe as a mercenary cult. An extremely secretive para military organization made up of highly trained killing machines known as “Operatives”. Their father was the leader of the one of four factions. The Hearts Faction. (Each faction is named after the suits in a deck of cards) He wanted an heir to train to one day replace him but ended up with twin boys instead. Their whole lives were essentially a competition to determine who would one day replace their father, all culminating to this final confrontation in the present day.

You’re actually the first stranger I’ve ever had comment on my work so thank you again, haha.

girlwitha:

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 00:16:46 -0500

girlwitha:

Photo

Fri, 25 Jan 2013 23:27:20 -0500

krasotav: !!!!! This is beautiful

Sat, 08 Dec 2012 17:16:18 -0500

krasotav:

!!!!!

This is beautiful

Photo

Wed, 14 Nov 2012 10:41:03 -0500

This

Sun, 28 Oct 2012 14:03:55 -0400

This

The first chapter from the book I've been working on.

Mon, 15 Oct 2012 15:52:36 -0400

The Buck Stops Here

After Action Report #4274

Date: 08/08/2007

Time: 1500-1610 (Pacific Standard Time)

Local: Bakersfield California

Venue: Greyhound Bus Depot

Casualties: 0 (Zero Wounded. Zero Dead)

Status of Health: No injuries

Bus depot. Bakersfield. The weather forecast in the paper predicted triple digits, and twenty percent humidity. The channel five weather man predicted high nineties, and forty percent humidity. The thermometer on the wall said it was ninety four with twenty five percent humidity. There was four percent chance of rain.

The depot was small, and cramped. Four rows of blue plastic seats flanked either side of the ticket booth at the center of the building. Nearly every seat was occupied. The ones that weren’t were occupied by a purse. A backpack. A sweater. Any attempt to sit was met with the insistence that it was reserved. That was a lie. I knew it. They knew it. No quarrels ensued.

Several large women, Latino descent, El Salvadorian, fanned themselves with bus schedules to find relief from the heat. I perspired two teaspoons of sweat from my forehead beginning at my hairline. Four under my armpits. Five at my groin. I had no need to rehydrate.

Eleven young men of African American descent occupied every seat of one row. Each had with them a black duffle bag. A single green stripe traveled along the edges of the bag. A high school Basketball team destined for Sacramento for their championship game. The boy fourth from the left moved his bag. The slight clank in the bag indicated a bottle of Southern Comfort Whiskey stashed away. More than likely rolled in an article of clothing. More than likely a hoodie sweatshirt. The nervous, darting, body language of the boy second from the left indicates a half ounce of marijuana hidden away in his bag or on his person. Most likely in bag. Most likely tucked in sock, and placed in running shoe. He believed that this would throw off Law Enforcement trained canines. It wont.

Two males, Caucasian, mid forties, sitting two rows behind me each carried a side arm. The one on the left; Stevens, Douglas carried a vintage M1911 forty five caliber pistol in a holster attached to his abdomen. He more than likely did not posses a permit to carry a concealed firearm. The man on the right; Reynolds, Jonathan, carried a nickel plated three fifty seven magnum revolver tucked into the back of his pants. They believed that these things will keep them safe. They wont.

An elderly woman, Caucasian, late seventies made sustained eye contact with me. On her person she had a fanny pack, a magenta track suit, a transparent green plastic visor. Around her neck was a string of pearls. Not real. Each of her fingers was clad in rings of gold. Five 20 karat. Two 10 karat. Three were not real. The diamonds in each of them, CZs. She carried a single white porcelain vase. She had no luggage.

I take a place in line. It moved forward slowly as each individual ahead of me was helped by a single elderly African American man. He insisted that he did no need glasses. He did. He insisted that he had the entire bus schedule recognized. He did not.

At the head of the line stood a young woman. Likely Caucasian Latino mix. She held a rolling piece of luggage with her left hand, and the hand of a child with her right. The child, likely offspring of young woman, male, roughly seven years old. The boy had bruising, and lacerations on his left forearm. Likely victim of abuse. Likely perpetrated by father or father figure. The young woman searched the sign over the ticket booth for direct routes to Austin Texas. She would have to settle for two tickets to Houston with stops in Reno. In Scottsdale. In El Passo. She believed that relocating to Austin would protect her son, and her self from harm. That two paper strips with the names of towns printed on them would save them from the demons and nightmares of the world. They would not.

Behind me in line, the same elderly woman who made sustained eye contact with me took a place in line. The following is a transcript of our conversation:

Elderly Woman: Well hello there young man.

Gardner, Liam: Hello

Elderly Woman: Such a nice today aint it?

Gardner, Liam: Is it?

Elderly Woman: Well sure. Nice blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. Looks like the sun just might shine for days.

The elderly woman’s vase shifts in her hands. She lifts her large sunglasses up. Her eyes were once blue. Now grey with cataracts.

Gardner, Liam: I suppose. I didn’t notice.

The elderly woman extended her hand. The vase gripped under her arm.

Elderly Woman : Name’s Eleanor.

I shook Eleanor’s hand. Her grip was weak. Her skin like paper. A slight yellow stain on the insides of her index, and middle finger. Stain indicates heavy smoker. Smell indicates Wilson brand cigarettes. Menthol.

Gardner, Liam: Nice to make your acquaintance

I retracted my arm after the procedural greeting, as did she.

Eleanor: Well what about you?

Gardner, Liam: What about me?

Eleanor: You gotta name?

Gardner, Liam: I guess.

Eleanor: What do you mean ya guess? Everyone’s gotta name don’t they?

Gardner, Liam: I guess.

Eleanor: Well what is it?

Gardner Liam: Smith.

Eleanor: Smith what?

Gardner, Liam: I don’t follow.

Eleanor: Well you have a first name don’t ya?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: Well what is it? Aint no need to be so stiff.

Gardner, Liam: Michael.

Eleanor: Michael Smith?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: There now we’re all acquainted.

Gardner, Liam: I guess.

Eleanor: Mind if I call ya Mikey?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: Yes, you mind?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: Can I call ya Mike?

Gardner, Liam: I suppose it’ll do.

I was then second in line. Behind only an Asian male in his early thirties. He bought a ticket to Memphis. The shirt he wore was covered in musical lyrics. Elvis Pressley.

Eleanor: Well Mike, where are ya headed?

Gardner, Liam: Out of town.

Eleanor: Aren’t we all?

Gardner, Liam: I suppose. In a manner of speaking.

Eleanor: Whatcha mean?

Gardner, Liam: It isn’t important.

Eleanor: I’m headed to Atlantic city myself. Where are you going?

Gardner, Liam: Out of town.

Eleanor: Yeah, but where out of town.

Gardner, Liam: Far out of town.

Eleanor: How far?

Gardner, Liam: All the way.

Eleanor: Out of the country?

Gardner, Liam: I suppose you could say that.

Eleanor: Whatcha mean?

Gardner, Liam: It isn’t important.

The Asian male departs from the ticket booth. I stepped forward, and placed a credit card on the counter. The card was a Visa Platinum. No limit. The name on the card was Jones, Albert. The identification I provided matched the name. I asked for a ticket for the Bus destined for Tulsa Oklahoma. The elderly African American male handed me a ticket, and receipt. He wished me a safe journey. I didn’t correct him.

Outside the bus depot I stood in what shade was available made by a lamp post. The thermometer outside indicated the temperature had risen to one hundred and four degrees. There was thirty five percent chance of humidity. My watch indicated that it was five past three. The ticket in my hand scheduled the bus to arrive at half past three.

The elderly woman, Eleanor met me outside four minutes after my own arrival. The vase still tucked under her arm. The sunlight reflected off her green visor. I perspired fourteen tablespoons of sweat. Eleanor was dry. Early indication of heat stroke. The following is a transcript continuing the previous conversation:

Eleanor: So Tulsa.

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: I’m sure it’s nice there this time of year.

Gardner, Liam: Nice how?

Eleanor: The weather. I’m sure it’s nice in Tulsa this time of year.

Gardner, Liam: Yes. Nice.

Eleanor: So what’s waiting for ya there?

Gardner, Liam: Family.

Eleanor: Oh! A family reunion?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: Oh that’s just gravy. Do ya come from a big family?

Gardner, Liam: No.

Eleanor: How many are gettin’ together then?

Gardner, Liam: Two.

Eleanor: Two?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: Not including you?

Gardner, Liam: No.

Eleanor: So two including you?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: Not much of a family reunion.

Gardner, Liam. I agree.

Eleanor: Well who are they?

Gardner, Liam: Who?

Eleanor: The relative you’re meeting, who is it?

Gardner, Liam: My brother.

Eleanor: Oh how nice. When have you last spoken with him?

Gardner, Liam: Twenty years ago.

Eleanor: Oh my.

Gardner, Liam: What?

Eleanor: That’s an awful long time to not talk to a sibling.

Gardner, Liam: Is it?

Eleanor: Yes.

Gardner, Liam: Okay.

Eleanor: How old are you?

Gardner, Liam: Why?

Eleanor: Just curious.

Gardner, Liam: How old do I look?

Eleanor: I don’t know. Not that old.

Gardner, Liam: Okay.

Eleanor: What happened?

Gardner, Liam: What do you mean?

Eleanor: What happened that made you not speak to him for so long.

Gardner, Liam: Complicated.

Eleanor: Falling out?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

My watch indicated the time was twenty to four. The bus was ten minutes late. The thermometer indicated one hundred and five degrees. Eleanor remained dry.

Eleanor: Where are you meeting your bother?

Gardner, Liam: I don’t know yet.

Eleanor: You don’t know where his house is.

Gardner, Liam: No.

Eleanor: You do know where it is?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: Then why not go there?

Gardner, Liam: He doesn’t live in Tulsa.

Eleanor: Oh, are you meeting half way there?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: So you don’t have a meeting place planned out?

Gardner, Liam: No.

Eleanor: Then how will you find him?

Gardner, Liam: I’ll find him.

Eleanor: Or he’ll find you?

Gardner, Liam: A less attractive alternative.

Eleanor: What does that mean?

Gardner, Liam: Nothing.

Eleanor: Are you sure you’ll recognize him?

Gardner, Liam: Positive.

Eleanor: What makes you so sure? Twenty years can change a person.

Gardner, Liam: I see his face every day.

Eleanor: Oh, you have photographs?

Gardner, Liam: No.

Eleanor: What do you mean?

Gardner, Liam: We’re twins.

Eleanor: Identical?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: Then you shouldn’t have a problem finding each other.

Gardner, Liam: That’s exactly the problem.

Eleanor: What do you mean?

Gardner, Liam: Nothing.

My watch indicated five minutes to four when the bus to Tulsa arrived at the depot. The doors didn’t open right away. Passengers inside fresh from Topeka Kansas dismounted the bus. The driver, a heavy set Caucasian male in his late fifties, instructed us to weight as they refueled the bus. He suggested we use the washroom, and buy snacks. A bottle of water was a wise suggestion.

Eleanor: Well, I know a thing or two about complicated family matters. That’s what my whole trip is all about after all.

Gardner, Liam: Okay.

Eleanor: Absolutely. Just look here.

She produced the vase out from under her arm. The plain white porcelain looked cool to the touch. The thermometer indicated the temperature had risen to one hundred and six degrees. Fifty five percent humidity. The little shade I took refuge in was gone.

Eleanor: This here, this is my Buck.

Gardner, Liam: Buck?

Eleanor lightly shook the vase. Not a vase. An urn. Inside the ashen remains of her husband, or second husband. Long term partner. Label irrelevant.

Eleanor: My poor old Buck. He loved Atlantic city. He’d sit down at one of the Black jack tables, and just play, and play till we had to sell our clothes for bus tickets.

Gardner, Liam: But not anymore.

Eleanor: No, not anymore.

Gardner, Liam: How did he die?

Eleanor: Heart attack.

Gardner, Liam: Is that a lie?

Eleanor: Yes.

Gardner, Liam: How did he die?

Eleanor: I killed him.

Gardner, Liam: Is that a lie?

Eleanor: No.

Gardner, Liam: Okay.

Eleanor: He’d beat me almost every night. So about ten days ago I pushed him off our fire escape.

Gardner, Liam: What floor do you live on?

Eleanor: Twentieth.

Gardner, Liam: What did you tell the police?

Eleanor: Fell.

Gardner, Liam: They believed you?

Eleanor: Yes.

Gardner, Liam: Okay.

Eleanor: At first I was gonna scatter his ashes off the side of the pier in Atlantic City, but I got a better Idea.

Gardner, Liam: What is it?

Eleanor opened the urn, and revealed to me its contents. At the base of the urn surrounded by ashes was five sticks of dynamite bound together with electrical tape. Scotch taped to the side was a detonator.

Gardner, Liam: Where did you get that?

Eleanor: Would you believe me if I told you?

Gardner, Liam: No.

Eleanor: Okay.

Gardner, Liam: What are you going to do with it?

Eleanor: I’m gonna rob our favorite casino with it.

Gardner, Liam: And then detonate it?

Eleanor: Yes.

Gardner, Liam: No matter what?

Eleanor: How else would I be able to scatter the ashes?

Gardner, Liam: Is that a lie?

Eleanor: Would you believe me if I said no?

Gardner, Liam: Yes.

Eleanor: No.

The overweight bus driver waived on those boarding for Tulsa Oklahoma. The bus was refueled. The engine was already running. I pick up my suitcase from the ground.

Eleanor: Your turn.

Gardner, Liam: For what?

Eleanor: Tell me what you plan on doing when you get to Tulsa.

Gardner, Liam: I’m going to kill my brother.

Eleanor: Is that a lie?

Gardner, Liam: No.

Eleanor: Is your name Mike?

Gardner, Liam: No.

The final few passengers filed onto the bus. A seat remained near the window ten rows from the front. The driver urged all passengers who had not boarded to do so. I lifted my suit case, and walked to the steps. Crossing through the threshold of the bus door I left Eleanor alone outside. I was aware she watched me take my seat. I looked out where I waited for the bus. Where I left Eleanor was a pile of ash. A gust of wind scattered them.

“…From this day, till the ending of the world. We in...

Sat, 13 Oct 2012 15:56:41 -0400

“…From this day, till the ending of the world. We in it shall be remembered…”

daily grumbles: “GATHERING LEAVESSpades take up leavesNo better than spoons,And bags...

Sat, 13 Oct 2012 01:58:19 -0400

daily grumbles: “GATHERING LEAVESSpades take up leavesNo better than spoons,And bags...:

byeunae:

“GATHERING LEAVES
Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.
But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.
I may load and…

bigsmartjellyfish: I am so tangled in my sins that I cannot...

Thu, 11 Oct 2012 11:11:13 -0400

bigsmartjellyfish:

I am so tangled in my sins that I cannot escape… [x]

Photo

Wed, 10 Oct 2012 21:57:18 -0400

Photo

Mon, 10 Sep 2012 15:12:51 -0400

timtommerson: Robert’s book came today The only obstacle that...

Sat, 08 Sep 2012 03:37:11 -0400

timtommerson:

Robert’s book came today

The only obstacle that remains now is making my stuff cool.

patrick-batman: Just bringing this back

Tue, 04 Sep 2012 16:59:30 -0400

patrick-batman:

Just bringing this back

"Her vagina looked like cat stevens face"

Wed, 29 Aug 2012 21:34:51 -0400

“Her vagina looked like cat stevens face”

- Sarah silverman (via kissmeinthe-d-a-r-k-doitmyway)

your blog sucks and youre a faggot

Wed, 29 Aug 2012 20:37:03 -0400

…mom?

I guess I have an ask box now

Wed, 29 Aug 2012 20:08:11 -0400

so…