William Hargrove

“The Man” by William Hargrove

Part I: Dave’s Diner Pellets of rain pounded on the windows. The constant drumming on the glass was broken only by sporadic claps of thunder. It was dismal and dreary, with barely any life to be found within miles of the solitary diner. A tiled floor of shockingly black and boldly white squares lay beneath the cushioned, crimson seats of the diner’s booths. I sat across from these, at the bar. Dave’s Dine...

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“Mollycoddling” by William Hargrove

Submitted to Contest #101

5:47 AM Golden beams of summer sunlight filtered through the window and splashed all over Deirdre’s bed. Specks of dust were illuminated over her and twinkled like the stars of the night sky. She had awoken to silence, an atypical experience for most new mothers, like herself. She rolled out of bed and glanced over to the baby monitor, sitting silently on her bedside table. She inhaled deeply, and launched hersel...

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“Attached” by William Hargrove

Submitted to Contest #82

Albert was the loneliest man he knew. This was not much of an achievement, since he was too lonely to know all that many people. He was embarrassed about his height, ashamed about his pimples, and devastated by his own voice. Maybe that’s why he always spoke with his thumbs and a glowing screen. He rarely saw human faces, he would spend weeks in a row glued to his computer, only occasionally talking to a friend through ...

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“Test! Your! Love!!!” by William Hargrove

Submitted to Contest #67

The flickering lights of Arthur Avenue gave a fittingly ominous atmosphere to Ryan’s current endeavor. He kept his eyes pinned to the sidewalk, staring at his shoelaces as they whipped the ground with each step. Ignoring the discarded needles and empty broken bottles littering his peripheral vision at all times, Ryan approached the corner of the street and was met with the most beautiful sight. Her white skirt was close...

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“Table for Four” by William Hargrove

Submitted to Contest #63

His pale, cold fingers were wrapped aimlessly around the steaming hot cup, despite the absurdity of the thought that it could warm his dead hands. The scarlet, viscous liquid frothed ferociously in the Styrofoam cup as steam poured out like noxious gas. Orville inhaled deeply, smelling the sweet scent of human blood. AB+, he thought to himself. Maybe AB-? He took another whiff. Definitely positive....

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“Not Powerless” by William Hargrove

Submitted to Contest #58

Hour 0 If Rebecca Hawkins had known what she was going to cause, just from the simple act of holding that door, she would have thrown away that moment of prideful politeness in a heartbeat. “Becca, don't!” Rebecca’s friend, Jenny, cried out as Rebecca’s ex-boyfriend, Ron, dashed through the open doors, alongside one of Rebecca’s coworkers.  “Thank you! You’re very kind,” the man s...

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“The Drive Home” by William Hargrove

Submitted to Contest #39

George was not a paranoid man by nature. He wasn't superstitious, he never found himself scared about the worst-case scenario, and he saw himself as quite the rational person. All of that managed to change in a single night. After working hours of overtime and tiring himself out physically and mentally, George couldn't wait to get home, curl up in his warm bed, and fall asleep. He plucked his car keys from his pocket and clambered into his car, sighing in relief that his long day was finally over. He started the engine of his 2007...

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“Writer's Block” by William Hargrove

Submitted to Contest #32

New York City, New York; 6:04 PM “Mr. Greenwood,” the velvety voice of the interviewer began. “There have been numerous delays on the release of your latest novel, A Week In Paradise, and I was wondering, as I assume most of the audience is, too, what can ...

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“This Beautiful Earth” by William Hargrove

Submitted to Contest #31

Clare’s eyes swung back and forth across the plot of mulch which held her precious plants so tightly. She admired the beautiful things that they were, the gorgeous life-givers her mother had taught her to behold. Clare patted the soil absentmindedly, swirling it in abstract patterns under her palm and letting its soft homely feel seep through her fingers. She thought back to years prior, a simpler time, when she and her mother would garden from light until dark, getting the...

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“Waking Nightmare” by William Hargrove

Submitted to Contest #30

And then I screamed, begging for it to be over, I wrote furtively in my notebook. After being shaken awake from a nightmare, I had gone straight to my dream journal to document it. My groggy boyfriend watched me curiously. “Did you finish writing your nightmare, Sarah?” he mumbled sleepily.

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