M.J. Downing “You look like a monster in that thing,” Finn called from the porch. He was speaking to his father, Professor James McCoy, just home from his college office, who was carrying the yard waste to the curb. He wore a long wool coat with a wide hood as he walked down their... Continue Reading →
M.J. Downing Sometimes, when Halloween comes and the barriers between the worlds grows thinner, we get caught up in the changes, in the colder air, the falling leaves, in how those around us just aren’t like they used to be. It’s hard to see the changes in ourselves, too. Ghosts and monsters become just... Continue Reading →
Yes, he really did walk around, sometimes, with his rope over his back or head. He would bring it to you like that when it was time to play. That was my Grumpy. I delayed writing this for over a month. Losing my pal, Grumpy, pictured above, is one of the hardest times of... Continue Reading →
I learned a great deal in my few years in the Louisville Fire Department. One of the first and best and hardest lessons was that, unlike my father, I was not cut out to be a firefighter. I was shy, reticent, and mostly unconscious about what I wanted out of life. That’s quite common... Continue Reading →
Where did you go? You’re in the ground, now, I suppose, but it doesn’t feel real. How can you be dead? You were always so alive, so vital, like a flame, though you never burned me. I basked in your warmth, and I feel it still, though you are gone. You didn’t want... Continue Reading →
M.J. Downing Some time ago, now, Ray Grider sat at the front of his cardboard castle in the quiet alley behind the shoe repair shop, wondering of Mr. French, the owner, would bring him a meal tonight, not that he wanted one. His hunger faded after the diagnosis given him by young doctor, earlier that... Continue Reading →
M.J. Downing Ed came in from work, grabbed a cup of coffee and the paper, and sagged down on the sofa. His small, brown-haired son played on the floor with quiet energy, doing something with his little trucks and cars, making them follow the circles in the rag rug. Ed patted him on the head... Continue Reading →
M.J. Downing [Please note that the action here begins immediately following a previous story call “Obits,” found on this website. MJ] “Tom?” Albert asked as they cleaned up from the Halloween party. “How come nothing happened to you, you know, when we first went to the Stanzic house?” “What do you mean, nothing happened to... Continue Reading →
M.J. Downing Sometimes, when fall finally wins out over summer in Louisville, its cold, victorious rain plaits the fallen leaves into a silent carpet, chills bones, and stirs strange ideas in boys cooped up in houses and classrooms. Finn McCoy was such a boy. He had his mother’s strong nose and chin, along with... Continue Reading →
M.J. Downing It might have been on the fifteenth of December this year, or maybe the year before—or a hundred years before. Edward McKinney, in his heavy Irish sweater and flat cap against the chill, leaned toward his computer screen in the darkest corner of a coffee shop on Eastern Parkway. Lean and angular... Continue Reading →
MJ Downing’s Place 