The Daily Aztec

They had been picked up by the Coast Guard a while ago.  After background checks, Maggie and John, fresh from the earthquake-ravaged Haiti, were free to go. “Only one more thing left to do,” John murmured absently. While Maggie called a cab, John called the children’s guardian, Jasper, a friend who had agreed to take [...]

From the air, he thought Haiti looked like a jungle paradise.  But as he wandered the streets of Port-au-Prince, Craig Orsini realized this was paradise lost.  Poverty was rampant, even more so than it was 10 years ago when he was last here.  Children ran in the streets with little clothing. For some, a cardboard [...]

The guards approached cell B-48 and surrounded the door.  Its occupant, a sleeping mass under a blanket, did not stir.  The lead guard rapped his club on the door and peered into the window.  As he did, the man inside swung his hand up in a one-fingered salute. “That’s it,” the guard snarled.  Swinging the [...]

She was counting on her fingers, smiling and laughing.  Then a flash of bright light appeared, followed by the sound of screeching metal.  Father Craig Orsini woke up in a sweat.  The dream kept happening, but for some reason it didn’t make sense.  His doctor had assumed he was depressed and prescribed anti-depressants.  They hadn’t [...]

Maggie St. Claire’s computer beeped.  She glanced at the chat icon blinking in anticipation.  She clicked it and saw the username that haunted her: VoxPopuli79.  It had been a year since she first met the elusive Vox.  The first time, he supplied her with evidence of waste being  dumped into sea turtle breeding grounds.  Vox [...]

Folks still talk about Esperanza around these parts and I know I’m one of them.  She meant a lot to me and to this town.  Most don’t know why she left, or where she went.  Some call her an adulterer, trash, or even whore, for the uneducated.  I don’t pay those people any mind because [...]

Deputy Jasper Collins was waiting with the sheriff and other deputies outside a house. “Who’re we waiting for,” he asked them.  A young African-American man emerged from a black Camry. “Sheriff Cole, let me introduce myself. My name is John Barnes.  I’ll brief you and your deputies on the situation,” Barnes said, pulling out a [...]

The time was 4 p.m., but for those gathered at Los Angeles Memorial Cemetery, it was time to bury Kevin Murdoch.

Living on the reservation meant the nearest fire station was a mile away, more than enough time for a fire to consume the small house he called home.

“Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.” — George Eliot

You come here and ask me to play Angel of Death with human lives you’ve already judged as guilty.

The fighters meet in the center of the ring. There I am in the blue trunks. We tap gloves. I head back to my corner and say a quick prayer.