Tag Archives: Jack Cameron

Run Away by Jack Cameron


I’m sorry you have to find out like this. If I were half the man you thought I was, I’d be telling you my plan of how I’m going to make everything right again and pay back that bastard for what he did. But I’m not and I’m not. I hope when you get this that you’ll do the smart thing. Don’t try to find me. I’m not worth finding and will only bring you trouble. Kayla was always the good one.

I’ve tried to trace back my actions and what happened to see if any of it could have been prevented. Was it the conversation after the funeral? Was it when Kayla was attacked? Was it when I found the card? I guess it doesn’t matter how it happened. I know the truth of it.

It was when you and I visited Kayla in the hospital. That’s when I knew I wasn’t going to just ignore it. The right side of her face was swollen. She had a cut on her head. And for some reason they’d cut off her hair. My sixteen year old sister had been brutalized and someone was going to pay for that.

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After Sex by Jack Cameron

aftersex“Yes! Fuck me. Harder! Yes! Yes! Oh hell yeah, Nick! Just like that.” I’m sure the neighbors can hear her. And there was a time when this sort of thing would make me come in a heartbeat. But now I feel like I’m watching a movie. Karen comes hard and collapses on top of me. I feel the sweat on her back. She laughs as she looks around for something to clean up with. I think about who might be on Letterman tonight.

When did this happen? I remember when not just every thought but every decision I made in life was at least influenced by sex. And it wasn’t that long ago. Hell, I still had my collection of not too kinky porn on my hard drive. But when was the last time I looked at it?

She returns from the bathroom and hands me a warm washrag. I smile at this despite my lack of interest. I mean it’s not every girl who’s nice enough to hand you a warm washrag after sex. Usually you’re fumbling around for a stray sock or something.

Thankfully we’re well past the whole ‘Was it good for you?’ stage, but if she would have asked I would have lied and said it was great. It’s funny how some questions you stop asking because you already know the lie.

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Augie by Jack Cameron

18049_247178093018_851116_n“This is a great apartment…”

There was a pause after he said it. Augie was fairly certain the boy could not remember his name. Augie didn’t mind. He wasn’t sure of the boy’s name either. Tony, Troy, something with a ‘T’.

He watched from the bed as the boy walked around his apartment. The boy had his shirt off. Augie was enjoying the view. This boy was probably half Augie’s age with skin so white it looked like milk. He had that farm-boy-in-the-city look to him. Augie wondered how many times the boy had done this sort of thing. The boy picked up a framed photo from the dresser. Augie almost forty years ago standing next to his friend Daniel. Dan the man. It didn’t matter where they were, Dan could score enough reefer for him and all of his friends. The photo was taken in Quang Tin Province, Viet Nam. Two weeks later Daniel was dead. Shot by a sniper.

“Whoa.” The boy said, “Is this your dad?” Augie couldn’t help but smile. He’d be sixty-eight in a month but he didn’t look it at all.

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Ride Along by Jack Cameron

ridealongThe shotgun blast was so loud that it took me a moment to even understand what I’d just done.  I can’t say for sure what I was feeling. There was anger. There was fear. But most of all, there was a strange giddiness. If it hadn’t been my first time firing a shotgun, maybe it would have felt differently. The two men in front of me looked at me in disbelief. One of them had just the hint of a grin when the other one fell. And though I knew I was done, I was ready to fire again.

The previous night, there was no shotgun. My only weapon was a heavily used blue nylon jacket with the word ‘Security’ embroidered on the upper left hand side, like a nametag. My job was simple: stand outside the Food Mart from 6pm to midnight. That was it. If the place got robbed, I was supposed to call 911, like any customer would do. If someone stole something, I was to tell Todd, the night manager. I was a grocery store scarecrow. My training consisted of being told where to punch my time card and where to hang up the jacket that had been worn by countless security guys before me. Twice a night (at 9pm and at 11pm), an armed rent a cop would drop by while Todd did a safe drop. My first night on shift, the rent a cop said to me, “You’re just a deterrent. I’m the stopper.” He patted his holstered pistol for effect.

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