Habits of Devotion A Short Story by Harold O. Wilson On a clear winter morning in January, 1957, Billy Fitzgerald ended his studies for the priesthood and withdrew from St. Joseph Seminary College in St. Benedict, Louisiana. He returned home to Charleston, South Carolina and took up a […]Continue Reading... No Comments.
Sekhmet By Harold O. Wilson Ellen was a little awkward now. Tall, straight black hair then iron-gray, pulled back but not severe, gray suits, white blouse, all business, she had been rather stately. She moved with purpose, but still Harry could not predict her intent. She lived only in his head. It was a month […]Continue Reading... No Comments.
NOTE: “Desultores” was first published in Issue 2: Summer 2013 of the literary journal Free State Review. Visit Free State Review at www.freestaterevIew.com. Desultores By Harold O. Wilson The Barnum and Bailey Circus is in town. It is West Palm Beach, Florida and Marcia Matherton is seated in the first row facing the […]Continue Reading... No Comments.
Uncle Walter by Harold O. Wilson There was a time when my Uncle Walter lived with his sister-in-law. She was my mother. It was in Spring Lake, New Jersey during the war and after my father left for the Pacific Theatre. When Uncle Walter came, there were the three of us. I was in high […]Continue Reading... No Comments.
Iced Tea by Harold O. Wilson It’s hot; over a hundred degrees. The August air hazy with DC automobile fumes burns the lungs. Percy Moneyworth is shuffling down K Street bulked up in a dark green sweater, a ratty brown overcoat that hangs below his knees and a knit cap pulled down to his eyebrows. […]Continue Reading... No Comments.
O’Mama and the Great Leap Forward By Harold O. Wilson Change comes slowly to the piney woods of north Florida. Like evolution, life advances in increments so small as to be scarcely noticeable. An isolated expanse of sand, palmettos, scrub oak, and jack pine, this region below the dip of the Saint Mary’s River looks […]Continue Reading... No Comments.
Mirabelle and the Christmas Miracle By Harold O. Wilson “How unobtrusively and simply do those events take place on earth that are so heralded in heaven! On earth it happened in this wise: There was a poor young wife,…” It was the traditional family reading of Martin Luther’s Christmas sermon and Mirabelle Arablla Southerland was […]Continue Reading... No Comments.
A Kiss for Gertrude By Harold O. Wilson The room is a single-bed dorm room in a redbrick building constructed before the Civil War. It is hot and musty and smells of age and decay. Thurmond Roydal crosses the room and lifts a black and white promotional photograph of Gertrude Lawrence from his dresser. He […]Continue Reading... No Comments.
Desire By Harold O. Wilson In the solarium, fronted by large plate glass windows that looked north on the flowering mountains, Horace Becker was sunk in his armchair, bent over his book. Small, it was a thin volume, paperback, as slim and meager as Becker himself; he read: “He saw a landscape, a tropical swampland […]Continue Reading... No Comments.