Havok Publishing

Tag - Ronnell Kay Gibson

Staff Saturday featured image

The Voice of Cancer

“At least we caught it early.” I offer a box of tissues to Renee Halloway as we stand outside her son’s hospital room. When she doesn’t grab it, her husband John takes the box instead.
I hate giving bad news. It wrenches my stomach every time I have to say cancer.

Read it now
Staff Saturday featured image

The Key to the Kingdom

Cool water rushed down Prince Edward Mackivoy’s throat, instantly reviving his parched mouth and spirits. It had taken him a week to cross the desert, and he had run out of water two days ago.
Grit still clung to the roof of his mouth, so Edward stuck his face back in the meadow stream

Read it now
Staff Saturday featured image

Senseless

Toby toddles from his spot at the foot of my bed and starts licking my three-day old stubble. His sloppy kisses don’t tickle my skin. They’re are not cold, wet, or grainy. I can smell his minty breath—must’ve stolen a mint out of one of my pockets again—but, I can’t feel the warmth

Read it now
Staff Saturday featured image

A Short Visit Home

My aunt and uncle will kill me when they find out I’ve left. The compound, they remind me daily, is the only place we’re safe.
I set out early, planning to be back before they realize their oldest niece is gone. It’s only eight miles to our house, and I’m in good shape.

Read it now
Staff Saturday featured image

No Longer A Sidekick

I dive from the rooftop just before a second blast sends another explosion of bricks bursting from the building’s exterior.
Above me, Captain Tremendous shouts, “Kid, get out of there. Now.”
No need to tell me twice. I leap from the fire escape to the balcony to the rooftop to a higher rooftop where my mentor stands waiting, his red cape flowing in the night breeze. The initials “CT” shimmer across his chest. At his feet, my assailant is already tied up in CT’s signature coils. Boy, he’s fast.

Read it now
Staff Saturday featured image

Thanksgiving with the Little Prince

Prince Stewart Johannes Percival Ashford rolled over in his antique sleigh bed, yanking the Egyptian cotton sheets over his head. “Humphrey, go away. I’m sleeping.”
Humphrey ignored the command, as he did every morning, and marched across the room. “It’s the Day of Thanks, Master Stewart, and your parents have a full day of festivities planned.”

Read it now
Staff Saturday featured image

Just a Case of Distorted Reality

I shut to door to the conference room behind us. “Sir, please calm down.”
“I’ll calm down when I get some answers.” Mr. Buxton rounded on me. “My boy went missing for more than twenty-four hours and no one can tell me where he was or what happened to him.”

Read it now