Scotty Weeks

Belated update here, mostly for those arriving from google. I’ve started a substack and that’s the best place to find my writing.

https://www.scottyweeks.com/2022/05/30/substack.html

At first Mark thought the delivery driver might have a chance. Some guy had jumped into his path. To his credit, the driver powered his little e-bike right into the bastard. He had almost made it...

https://www.scottyweeks.com/2020/03/21/siege-of-troy.html

I did a Twitter thing. The story, “Online mobs, startup bullshit. A thread:”, consists of 263 tweets, or 13 daisy-chained tweet threads. Its working title was “Revolt”, stolen from the ex...

https://www.scottyweeks.com/2019/09/17/revolt.html

A few months after the world ended Sam lost his cat. She was not his cat in the same way that his friends, relatives, and possessions were once his; she was his cat because they knew each other a...

https://www.scottyweeks.com/2018/05/11/eileen.html

The realization hit Damon so hard he totally lost track of the story his mother was reading him.

https://www.scottyweeks.com/2018/05/06/jesus-wizard.html

The hard crack of a breakshot echoed over a crowd of murmuring fishermen all belly-pressed to the bar. The men were flannel clad, their fingers stained with engine dirt and yellowed with nicotine...

https://www.scottyweeks.com/2018/04/29/oldtimer.html

The line of pilgrims stretched all the way down the mountain. They came to pay respects to the monks who dedicated their lives to the faith.

https://www.scottyweeks.com/2018/04/22/ye-of-little-faith.html

The road was like he remembered. Red dirt fenceposted by oaks and green shrubs. He leaned forward in his seat at every bend in case it was the one. The church was familiar. He passed a wrought ir...

https://www.scottyweeks.com/2018/04/07/home-soil.html

The register dinged. A dozen eggs, jug of milk, some apples came down the conveyor belt. Robbie hustled, flipping the milk jug over, gently setting it into the open bag in front of him. Eggs to t...

https://www.scottyweeks.com/2018/03/24/the-dinner-club.html

A gust of wind howled through the stairwell. Bill paused, shut the door, and savored a few seconds of warmth before pushing forward again. Outside on the street it was even worse. The wind greedi...

https://www.scottyweeks.com/2018/03/18/winter-blahs.html