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One Way Ticket
Posted April 23, 2012 by David L. Tucker

Years after a near-miraculous birth imposes impossible life expectations on him, a lonely and unaccomplished man tries to radically reinvent himself. A prominent female author is stricken with writer’s block a few hours before she is scheduled to deliver the keynote speech of her life. On a train, a struggling former advertising executive becomes para- lyzed by the silent presence of a young woman who reminds him of a lost love who derailed his life and career. One Way Ticket is a riveting collection of stories that explore the jagged psychic journey of characters forced by circum- stance and fate to rewrite their life narrative or be destroyed by it. These powerful character-driven stories, told with wit and sensitivity, challenge us to examine our own lives and the personal choices we make.

  • "I am passionate about creative work that explores, entertains and illuminates."
    - David L. Tucker
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That fatal summer was hot, scorching hot. Laura had just left his condo for the last time, taking the oxygen with her. Al was left, stumbling about the airless apartment, gasping for breath, spilling the remains of his once-tidy life across the polished floor. He curled up, fetal-like, in a corner, remaining there for most of the summer, praying for the phone to ring, to hear her breathy voice once more. The phone did not ring. Dust settled over him, shroud-like. Cobwebs spread across his limp body; silverfish swam in his ears. His fingernails grew longer than Howard Hughes’; he foamed at the mouth, bayed at the moon, chewed the furniture and drank from the toilet. He placed his bare hands on the stove, turning up the burners until the stench of smouldering flesh filled the air. Mad love is like this. You throw yourself on the funeral pyre, spontaneously combust and pray for resurrection. But there was no resurrection. Once, his tailored image had flickered in her glass darkly, her cold, shimmering eyes reflecting back his self-deception, that frothy concoction of male pretense: a life lived small but imagined large. Now, those big shiny delusions were shards in his bare, bleeding feet.