By The Campfire » Tweets

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-05-09

Terry Taylor — Mon, 10 May 2010 00:29:00 +0000

http://www.bigriveradvertising.com #
Who will get a big bonus check on Wall Street for the near 1,000 point drop yesterday? Isn't that how it works these days? #
Sexual innuendo: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #

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Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-05-02

Terry Taylor — Mon, 03 May 2010 00:29:00 +0000

The environmental costs of this Gulf oil spill is devastating. Then we'll all get to pay for it at the pump. Same people always pay: us. #
Civets coffee? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/civets-coffee #
Anyone's Droid ever scramble your emails? #
Fried chicken: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/the-art-of-crust #
Message on a train: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/message-on-a-train #
Un-Join me: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
The next Pope? Perhaps a nun. Or…
http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/the-next-pope-perhaps-a-nun-or #
Now I can't my dog to the Grand Canyon because he has no papers. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/02/opinion/02rich.html?src=me&ref=general #

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Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-04-25

Terry Taylor — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 00:29:00 +0000

Who can we blame today? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
Love is hard to see in a person so flawed, but that’s exactly what he saw in his daughter’s eyes, still rimmed in the purple of her beating. #
He nodded and she took it for what it was worth. As screwed up as they were, this was her family. None of them had anyone else. #
Gus had known little about love beyond Bren. Jimmy never tried to understand it. Jolene has mistaken it for everything from sex to drugs. #
Calmness settled between the cypress trees just long enough to let their minds wander about things beyond their present predicament. #
The sound peeled the calm from ripples behind the boat. The impact was metal on flesh, exploding bone and the copper smell of blood. #
From behind a bent tree, Ritko dropped the scope from his eye. He only needed to kill one of them. And the one he wanted was down. #
There was no screaming, no splashing, no panic. Dying is seldom as dramatic is it in the movies. Mostly it is just quiet and final. #
The boat drifted to the right toward the far bank and nosed into the brush. Ritko walked away in the direction he had come. #
The low clouds hung above, observing the violence with no visible change. Clouds see their share of inhumanity, making no judgments. #
This ends Sail cat Road. Thank you for following. All chapters are posted at http://sailcatroad.posterous.com #
is changing the stories to include you into them. Stay tuned. Comedy? Mystery? Thriller? Your choice. #
Civets coffee? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Civets coffee? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
For a man like Dill, the first step into a bar is the worst. His life had run out six months ago. He just had not been paying attention. #
She could tell he was past his expiration date – the broken veins in his face, the parchment skin, a stare that saw nothing and everything. #
The smell of the road hung on him deeper than his clothes. Dust from 300 miles back tamped from his boots. Confusion wrinkled his eyes. #
There had been no rain for a week. The ground sucked up any liquid to quench its thirst. Twelve miles north, blood soaked dried roots. #
Dill had not hesitated to end the man’s life. It was the least he could do for an old friend. Now he ordered rum with a single cube. #
It reminded him of a bar in Jamaica where he’s loved another man’s wife and left more blood on the ground. The liquid dulled his thoughts. #
Most people hate their job, but suffer it for the rent. Living is hard to do, however, when killing is your business. #
If you look for meaning in stories, you’ll have trouble in life. It does not offer meaning. It just happens. That’s what happened to Dill. #
If you care to follow, you may find some meaning, but it is not intentional. Ride the words like a highway and enjoy the scenery. #
Boiled Peanuts in NYC: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
The beauty of irony on the cover of the NYTimes today: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #

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Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-04-18

Terry Taylor — Mon, 19 Apr 2010 00:29:00 +0000

The best lemonade versus the best limeade? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
The best limeade versus the best lemonade: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Droooid: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
“They were going to collect on me,” said Jolene. She dropped her arm over the edge and scooped amber water and wiped her face. #
“These are some committed sons of bitches,” said Gus. “They’ll keep coming. There’s no shortage of them. That’s what happens with money.” #
Jimmy gazed into the treetops. “There’ll soon be a shortage of them. The thing about chasing is, sometimes to catch what you don’t want.” #
“They’ll just send more,” said Jolene. She looked at Gus and changed the subject. “So after all this, you want to be my daddy now?” #
Sail Cat Road continues later. Thank you for following, even after the lull. Sometimes life fills in the spare moments. #
Message on a train: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Fried chicken? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #

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Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-04-11

Terry Taylor — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 00:29:00 +0000

When Detroit mattered: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Sail cat road will continue soon #
Pain: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #

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Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-04-04

Terry Taylor — Mon, 05 Apr 2010 00:29:00 +0000

Sail Cat Road continues now. #
Sail Cat Road, Chapter 22 #
The metal fishing boat with the 25-horse Merc was nosed up onto the slanted mud bank. They stopped for a second to see if anyone was near. #
A small cabin was visible through the trees. No movement. People were talking loudly behind them in the direction of the café. Dogs barked. #
Gus jumped in the boat and cranked it with two pulls. Jolene was second in. Jimmy pushed it out and pulled himself up and over the side. #
A muddy V frothed from the prop. Gus pointed the boat upstream. Police always looked downstream. The Gulf, and freedom, was down there. #
No one would suspect upstream; Gus knew that. So did Jimmy. Jolene only wanted to move away quickly. She did not care in which direction. #
Chapter 21 of Sail Cat Road now at http://sailcatroad.posterous.com
or
http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
The wisdom of Rudy: http://rudydog.posterous.com #
Jack Russellisms: http://rudydog.posterous.com/ #
Follow the adventures of Rudy, a Jack Russell: https://twitter.com/Rudythejack #
Sail Cat Road continues Tuesday. Thank you for following. #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
Jolene lay low in the boat so it would look like two men out fishing. She reloaded her clip from extra rounds in her pockets. #
Moss hung from tree branches almost to the water like whiskers from flood-bent trees. To the south, thunder ached over the swamps. #
Snakes made S’s through the chocolate water and a small alligator wallowed in mud below a broken, grayed pier. Mosquitos chased the boat. #
Thick brush hugged the riverbanks. The Merc churned against the current. A bridge was ahead. Not good news. Cops loved bridges. Gus slowed. #
“Faster,” said Jimmy. “They ain’t up this far yet,” Gus twisted the handle harder. Jolene lay on wet, dead wigglers soaking her clothes. #
I moment of cool shade darkened the three as they went under the bridge. On the other side, the sun revealed a fish camp ahead. #
Jimmy slid .45 caliber rounds into his extra clip. “Get it and go. This will be the first place they look. Ease up and I’ll grab it.” #
Jolene studied the cabin. No one. She scanned the trees. No trucks. “Fishing must suck here,” she said. “Rednecks fish anytime, anywhere.” #
“It’s Tuesday. They don’t fish on Tuesdays,” said Gus. “Tomorrow, they’ll be back. Maybe tonight. They’re working or drinking now.” #
Sail Cat Road continues later. Thank you for following. #
Leatherman in the Senate: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Beware the push-up humping dog: http://rudydog.posterous.com #
Why dogs? http://twitter.com/Rudythejack #
Big, bad government: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/big-bad-government #

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Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-03-28

Terry Taylor — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 00:29:00 +0000

Health care reform? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Congressional Viagra? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
What are we paying for? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/ #
What should we call this behavior? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Bad behavior in Congress: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/ #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
Silence. Jimmy looked around the corner to see if there was a fourth shooter. There was not. He paused, gun leveled. #
Acrid plumes of cordite wafted downwind. Jolene squinted into the sunlight. The last deputy was still pulling at a breath. She smiled down. #
“The cops looking for extra money?” she said. His head broke into three pieces as Jimmy’s .45 ended the man’s pain. #
“No reason to talk to dead men,” he said. “Let’s go before the real cops show up.” Jimmy watched the patrons inside the café. #
Gus motioned toward the cruisers. “The real cops are long dead. The road ain’t a good exit either. We got a lot of tails on this one.” #
Jolene wiped the sweat from her bruised face. Gus nodded toward the woods. The river was close. They could tell by the slant of the terrain. #
Sail Cat Road will continue later. #
The meaning of D.C. traffic: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
Jimmy walked back into the café. A woman wailed in Pentecostal revival earnestness. A child cried. The manager crouched behind the counter. #
“Mister, I didn’t know –” said the manager before the bullet ripped out his larynx, taking his last sentence with it. The waitress gasped. #
Jimmy leaned over the counter into wide eyes of pain and realization of death. The copper smell of blood mixed with bacon and burned toast. #
“You do know,” said Jimmy to the man who needed money and was willing to sell out strangers to get it. They both understood the feeling. #
But only one was holding the .45. Jimmy was too efficient to waste time on blame or regret. He hated to waste a bullet, but he did. #
The woman in the booth bellowed louder. He walked past her; then he turned. “Cry for your family, not for him. They’ll appreciate it more.” #
Outside, the air had cleared. Bodies lay in crimson puddles. Jimmy’s age began to affect his coldness. He wished it had not come to this. #
He spent little time on his wish. He followed Gus and Jolene towards the river. One day, he thought, we’ll stop running and just fish. #
Sail Cat Road will continue later. Thank you for following. #
Chapters 1-20 of Sail Cat Road is at http://sailcatroad.posterous.com #
Traffic in DC? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Big Government Anger? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
http://www.nogoodend.com #
Big Government and the Census: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #

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Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-03-14

Terry Taylor — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 00:29:00 +0000

Sail Cat Road continues now. #
Jimmy raked a shot under the car and grazed the left ankle on the other side. A woman’s scream rose into the eave of the small building. #
The sockless man lay dead, face down in front of Jolene. She lay down behind his body, seeing a torso on the ground behind the Buick. #
A hand tipped with red nail polish curled over the hood and fired aimlessly. One round hit the side of a bread truck. The rest hit nothing. #
Eight shots. 9mm. The shooter had four more shots. It didn’t matter. Jimmy saw how it would end; two dead shooters – like always. #
Sail Cat Road will continue later. Thank you for following. #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
Jolene lay flat on the ground, her ear on the asphalt. She stretched her arms and pumped five rounds into the tire. The car collapsed. #
Jimmy saw the woman's head hit the pavement. He finished her with one shot in the ear from 30 feet. Sirens droned down the road. #
Gus could see from the inside that it was over, unless there was a third shooter. There was. He ran from the left and fired toward the café. #
Glass dropped onto tables and people screamed. Jolene rolled over the corpse of the first man. Headlights exploded. Metal dinged. #
A bullet wiggled through the window, divoting Gus’ left ear. It sounded like a zipper. Blood ran down his neck and stained his shirt. #
Jimmy leaned into the left side of the door and opened the man’s head with a squeeze. The sirens were too close now. “Go,” he said. “Now.” #
Gus ran into the parking lot, pulled Jolene up, and they ran to the back. She had the keys out, ready to crank her stolen car. She did not. #
Panic poured from the small building in awkward stumbling. Jimmy and Gus ran across waist-deep grass into the pines. Jolene waited. #
Three deputies slid to a stop, spraying gravel as their cruisers lurched into the parking lot. Nothing happened for at least two minutes. #
Radios crackled. The officers assessed the situation. Three bodies. Bullet holes all over the place. People inside and outside yelling. #
A woman with a weapon stood beside the dumpster. A 9 mm hung loosely in her hand; her face so calm, so detached. #
Jolene was tired of running. She was tired of being shot at. She looked almost asleep. Deputies’ voices echoed. She only heard the shots. #
Sail Cat Road continues later. Thank you for following. Chapters 1-20 at http://sailcatroad.posterous.com #
The Accidental Cannibal: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
The American Web: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
American Web and Accidental Cannibals: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
American Web and Accidental Cannibals: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Now I'm afraid of my mattress: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
One shot. Then another. Three more. Five. These deputies were not the top of their class at target practice. Jolene did not move. #
At the edge of the woods, Jimmy turned to go back for her. Gus called her name over and over. The deputies fired again and again. #
Cinderblock fell in chunks on the asphalt with each round the deputies fired. They had no regard for the customers safety. They just shot. #
That was the clue for Jimmy. Jolene was way ahead of him. Gus knew things were not as they seemed and stepped from behind the vehicle. #
Jolene jerked the 9 mm up and sighted past her wrists. The mechanics of her weapon jerked over and over, shells bouncing end over end. #
Sail Cat Road will continue later. Thank you for following. #
Going to the mattresses: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Going to the mattresses: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
Jimmy worked around the back of the building. Shots raked above him. Some caught in the peeling roof splashing gray bits onto his head. #
Dropping to one knee, Jolene put two rounds into one deputy. His chest opened onto the ground with a slush like a box of cheap wine. #
Both of his knees crunched into cracked asphalt. When violent men die, the sudden peacefulness pools in their eyes. This one almost smiled. #
A millisecond after Gus pulled the trigger, the second deputy’s arm exploded, knocking the gun into a perfect arc across the hood of a Ford. #
A grimace puckered the man’s face into the horrid realization that death was coming with the next shot. He clinched his teeth. #
The next round from Gus’ .45 caught the shooter in the groin and doubled him over with a yelp. The third took off the back of his head. #
Jolene crippled the third deputy with a grazing knee wound, then laid him flat on his back with another hit in the shoulder. A truck passed. #
The driver sped up as he realized the nature of the events unfolding in front of the restaurant. His cell was pressed hard against his ear. #
Sail Cat Road will continue later. Thank you for following. #
Want goose with your pie? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #

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Sail Cat Road, Chapter 20

Terry Taylor — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 10:00:02 +0000

Sail Cat Road, the sequel to No Good End, continues below. It is being posted tweet-by-tweet daily on Twitter (http://twitter.com/ttaylordude). I will post each chapter here on Ning (in chronological order). For the prequel, please go to: www.nogoodend.com. Each chapter is posted at: http://sailcatroad.posterous.com and at http://terrytaylor.posterous.com

Mikal Ritko traveled alone. Things had gotten out of hand. Bren was abducted and killed by Fussell Duware. Ritko should have killed him years earlier.

Gus had jumped the hospital and fled with Jimmy. They likely drove west toward a story that would end badly for someone, maybe even them.

Agent James was dead in the door of the ER in Andalusia. Duware was good at his job and willing to do anything to get the job done. Anything.

In this case, dressing like a woman and shooting Agent James in the unpleasant daylight. It piled up in his head, ugly and unorganized.

Lemuel Zapata was still alive, probably. He had a talent for it. His son, Zeke, however, had not been so fortunate. Duware was culling.

Zeke lay cooked in cooling wreckage under a pecan tree towards Mississippi. Zapata had lost Bren and Zeke to the same piece of business.

Fussell Duware was still working, a murderer with intentions to kill everyone involved in his perceived slight. Ritko was on that list.

Jolene was out in Texas or Louisiana somewhere, probably killing people who deserved it. Ritko’s office called so much he tossed his phone.

He did not need it anymore. Silence would serve him better than the complication of communication. He stripped his life part by part.

Ritko had been trained to become invisible. Thousands of government dollars went into educating him on the skill of vanishing.

Going off the grid is not an easy thing. There must be a body. There must be a dead end. I.D.s, service weapon, badge, everything.

Fire was good; hard to run a trace on charcoal. CSI was sophisticated, but not like on TV. Cooked bones and a badge would work down here.

He made sure everything that could I.D. him was in the wreck. The men who died, like so many others, deserved it. Perhaps Ritko as well.

He was no longer Mikal Ritko. He was no one when he hot wired the farmer’s truck next to the carport and drove to the end of the highway.

Ritko’s life had been a geometric equation of people, events and evidence. He worked the calculations until he found his result. Not now.

The ordeal before him was blood and loose ends. For the first time in his life, after all of the violent things he had done, he was afraid.

He was not afraid of dying. He expected that. Felt it was overdue. He was afraid of failing. Dying was easy. Failing was unacceptable.

Ritko owed Jimmy Gantt. Jimmy had saved his life once – by not killing him when he had the change. Ironic mercy is enough sometimes.

So he owed the man for that one. More importantly, Jimmy had given Ritko the inside track on cases that made his career in the service.

Ritko came from a poor family. His parents spoke no English. Ritko’s job from childhood on was to succeed. He had done his job – and more.

He had done the worst jobs available because the odds of glory and promotion were quicker. Of course, the odds of failure were inherent.

Ritko did not fail often. And when he did, he was good enough to cover it up. Now he was covering up his entire life by going off the grid.

“No one expects a dead person to do anything,” Jimmy had told him years ago. “So dead people can do everything.”

He was officially dead as society measures life. He was neatly cinched up, freed of the daily mendacity that defines human existence.

For the first time in years, he felt alive. The trees were greener. The leaves had textures he had never noticed. Water tasted better.

Breathing was enjoyable. He had never noticed it before. His lungs felt sweet with each intake. The smell of freedom made him smile.

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Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-03-07

Terry Taylor — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 00:29:00 +0000

Sail Cat Road continues now. #
“Watch this guy,” said Jimmy. “It’s his game to lose. He’s waiting for her. The other one is outside. A double up. Quick and clean.” #
That man looks nervous as a whore in church,” said Gus. “Look at Jolene out there. She’s calm as hell. You think she knows?” #
“See what happens when she comes in,” said Jimmy. “Just have your gun ready to join the concert. Go ahead and move over toward the corner.” #
“You setting up an angle?” said Gus. “They got their cross fire working better than both of us being in here.” He knew this could get ugly. #
Jimmy surveyed the room: truckers, plumbers, construction guys, a family next to the window, a blue-collar business meeting near the door. #
“We got to spread out some,” said Jimmy. “Get some separation between us so we ain't sitting here like a grouped target. That's too easy.” #
“And the odds of him getting us is?” Gus chewed on his straw and looked between the cars and trucks carefully. “I don’t see him out there.” #
“May not be a him,” said Jimmy. “Could be a her. And the odds of them getting us?” He paused. “None at all if we pull it off right.” #
Brilliant alternative to retirement homes: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
“And how do you know this?" said Gus as he got up from the booth and looked toward the corner. "You been in a situation like this before?" #
“I have,” said Jimmy. His eyes squinted into slits. His brain was evaluating equations. His hands were cold steady. #
“They have cafes like this in Nam?” said Gus with a grunt. He did not like the layout of the place. He did not share Jimmy’s optimism. #
“I just like to play the odds now and then to make sure there still are odds," said Jimmy. "I live inside a series of careful calculations.” #
“And people die outside your equations,” said Gus. His heartbeat made his ears hurt. “I feel thickness in the air. Pressure, like a storm.” #
Sail Cat Road will continue later. Thank you for following. #
Chapter 20 of Sail Cat Road: http://sailcatroad.posterous.com or http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/sail-cat-road-chapter-20-0 #
An alternative to retirement homes? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Smell the Hate: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
The man at the door of the café rubbed the top of his head with his palm and leaned from side to side impatiently. Jolene did not move. #
“He’s watching us. You in particular,” said Jimmy. “He aint’ stupid. But he ain’t smart either. Just dumb enough to be dangerous.” #
“He ain’t looking at us,” said Gus. “He don’t even know who we are. He’s watching Jolene out there. It’s coming down. I smell it.” #
“That’s blood,” said Jimmy. “You can smell it even before it starts pouring out of people. I’ve smelled my share.” Jimmy planted his feet. #
A woman in the next booth stopped talking and started sliding under the table. She pulled her child under with her. A fork hit the floor. #
Sail Cat Road continues later. Thank you for following. For the prequel, go to http://www.nogoodend.com #
Smell the Hate: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
What will save American Idol? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
The door opened. Jolene stayed in the parking lot. Another couple came in. It shielded her move. Confusion stirred at the cash register. #
“That man has a gun!” yelled a woman, pointing at the sockless man. People jumped and dropped and did what people do when caught and scared. #
Jolene was behind the man before he saw her. She held her 9 mm under his ribs. “You won't be collecting that contract money today.” #
He instinctively reached for his gun. Jimmy leaped from the booth. The man stopped his hand as Jolene's trigger finger tightened. #
“It’s all good,” said Jimmy calmly. “I’m a police officer.” He held up a badge. It was Gus’s old badge from Alabama. “Settle down ma’am.” #
He walked straight to the sockless man. “We got it under control,” He looked at Jolene. Her eyes were wide. Gus was already raising his .45. #
“Let these folks eat,” said Jimmy. He pulled the man’s .45 from under his coat and nodded to the cashier. “Call the police." #
The manager had already called 911. Jimmy pressed the man past Jolene. “Get the car.” He whispered. “We’ll handle this down the road.” #
Gus saw the short man out the window first. He knew they would not get the opportunity to handle this anywhere but here. #
Sail Cat Road will continue later. Chapters 1-20 at http://sailcatroad.posterous.com. The prequel at http://www.nogoodend.com #
More stories: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Airporn (full body scanners): http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Kids, Planes and Facebook SNAFU’s: http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Full body scanners at airports? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/airporn #
What will save American Idol?
http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/what-will-save-american-idol #
It beats a retirement home:
http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/a-brilliant-alternative-to-retirement-homes #
Smell the hate:
http://terrytaylor.posterous.com/smell-the-hate #
Sail Cat Road continues now. #
Door glass splintered the entrance. Gus ducked. Jolene rolled out and slammed against the bumper of a truck, her gun raised and searching. #
Another bullet caromed off a metal pole beside the bent awning. Jimmy held the sockless man straight, shoving him into the parking lot. #
One side of the man’s head vaporized from the third shot – the right side. This told Jimmy the shooter’s location. He dropped the body. #
Two gray sneakers slid behind a Buick in the position of a crouching shooter. Jimmy yelled for Gus to stay low. Jolene watched Jimmy’s eyes. #
Sail Cat Road continues later. Thank you for following. #
Say what? http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #
Verbiage: http://ttaylordude.wordpress.com #
"Tebow stole my car, dude." http://terrytaylor.posterous.com #

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