Short Story Selections

By Asa Montreaux, pen name Andrew James It was midnight and there was no one that had found him. The congressman came and knocked on my door regretfully. His face was grave. I’m sorry. We’ve heard the story. He was betrayed by an older man, and turned over to a group of hostiles. We are not sure what his present condition is, or where they have taken him. We know the roads they took exiting the scene, they were headed east, but further than that, we have no idea where he is. We’ve activated a team to pursue his whereabouts outside the city. I have to ask that you stay here, and wait until we’ve apprehended the suspects. There is a chance that Allister might be okay. This may develop into a hostage situation. If they want something for his release, I’ll keep you posted. I thought about who might want something to do with him, though nothing came to mind. Those invaders in Scotland were so far away. What could anyone want from us, now. We had been involved in too many important matters...

By Asa Montreaux, pen name Andrew James Int. House Vincent: What do we do with the body? What an... animal. What an act he has committed. Matilda: Now Vincent. Oh. Let's get rid of it. Don't bury it here. Vincent: In death even his wife to be will not spare him sympathy. Security. Him up and away from her. You have heard it. We care not were. Security: Yes, Sir. (They lift eh body and carry him out of the room and away from them). Vincent: Well, I am no scientist. Though I always wanted to be one. Pehaps that's why I had to study something else. Evert the reveler of sicence, what say ye is the cause of death? Stupidity? Mae: Is he dead or is this some kind fo trick and he's going to come back. Denise: No. They shot him in the back of the head. He's dead. Mae: Oh, I see. I see. So my parents said Ican go home whatever actually. Though I might stay longer if the crazy one is gone. Teresa: That will be fine. I suppose I don'...

By Asa Montreaux, pen name Andrew James By the time winter came, more people had come to the community from all over the world. Six months had gone by, and there was much more for us to concern ourselves with. The city was much more busy. Maisie and I were at dinner in the hotel. ‘You’re face is still flushed.’ She said. ‘We were walking for a long time.’ ‘I didn’t think you noticed.’ ‘I did have some knowledge of just how far we walked.’ ‘And briskly.’ ‘My face is not flushed.’ ‘No. Not really.’ ‘Unless it is the wine. Then I could be flushed.’ ‘You’re a lightweight.’ ‘Please don’t encourage my alcoholism.’ ‘You’re so sad. If I were to read your novel I am not sure if I could believe anything you say.’ ‘I didn’t tell you I wrote a novel. Have you been going through my things.’ ‘Oh. Well no, of course I haven’t been going through your things.’ ‘Are you sure?’ ‘I don’t know. Maybe I might have come across it looking for some makeup or what have you.’ ‘I’...

By Asa Montreaux, pen name Andrew James Int. Kitchen area Mae: Do they really leave all these bagels around for you all the time. Vincent: Yep. They do. Eat at your own risk. They're just so good. Mae: So many different flavours. This one is sesame seed. Vincent: Mhmm. It's a bit abusive the way they cook dinner for us though. You don't really have a choice. Mae: (Looks at him sideways a little, smirks) I hadn't noticed that. Maybe they want to give you more of something that you're not thinking about. Vincent: What, like poison. Mae: No, not poision. Something else other than that. Vincent: Maybe, I have no hint as to what other thing that might be. Something meant to harm something related to me. Nothing I've stuck my chin out about. Mae: You're in the middle of a vast conspiracy. Vincent: You think so? It might be more the case that this really is a domestic kind of dispute. Mae: Best to keep things discr...