Tag Archives: Melissa Thayer

Red by Melissa Thayer

AuthorLissa B&WThe gun was clean. Loaded. Double-checked. His knife, the one he had carried always, she held a moment before strapping it to her belt. There were five who must die today. Outside her blinded window, dawn was about to break over the minarets. The muezzin sing-songed beckonings to adhan.

The men who took him last night hadn’t seen her. His body would not get cold before she enacted her revenge. The first was Gadi. He was a whore-lover. The second was Azzam, he had a scar across his face from his penchant for bar fights. Zero was famously addicted to opium. Marid sold carpets at the bazaar. Jibril was a gambler. Despite the call the adhan, she knew the hypocrites wouldn’t be among the crowds.

She holstered the gun, wrapped her face in a red scarf, and took to the dark streets. They had no idea who they had awakened. First stop, Madame Khalidah’s. She slipped in past the incensed parlor, whispering her question to the madame on the whereabouts of Gadi. The carpeted stairs hushed her steps, down the hall, third door on the left. She eased the door open. He was sleeping naked on the couch with a sweaty whore. He awoke to the pressure of the barrel against his temple.

She would never feel her lover’s lips again.


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The Stories We Don’t Tell~an excerpt by Melissa Thayer

ThayerpicNick remembered his only Ferris wheel. It happened during the county fair when he first felt wrong about this whole growing up thing. He was ten, and his brother was six or seven. Nick waited in line and climbed up onto the seat while the carny with the cigarette clinging to his lip lowered and clanked the bar into place across the seat. Nick noticed the carny’s dirty and yellowed fingernails and promised to always keep his own clean. He waved to his mother who stood by his father and brother who was too short to go with him on the Ferris wheel, which was fine with Nick because he only wanted to see the view from the top and not be distracted by the kid. And the wheel began turning, cranking into motion. Nick held the sides of the car as he went higher. He could see the whole valley and the river winding, and maybe that was imagination, but he would never tell the difference.

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