Cut From A Different Cloth by Robert Ragan

Cut From A Different Cloth An alarm clock goes off. Outside, what little dark there is left waits for the sun to show up. Fuck my life, having to get up and go to work. It would be okay, but I always do something wrong giving the people I work with a reason to bitch…

Come Get Me by Robert Ragan

Come Get Me An artist, I draw guns on small time dealers making their little re-up. Stuck up assholes, treating their friends like shit until they’re crying to their buddies saying, “Fiends pulled a stick up on me.” Even with drug problems, I’m dressed nice. Still with money in my pocket and my ears to…

Not That Mean by Robert Ragan

Not That Mean   What am I doing? So in love, I’m starting to question my own morals. Yes, even criminals have morals. One time, I was forced to pull a gun on someone. It was during a burglary, my best friend and I thought no one was home. This friend, who I’m sure would…

No Loyalty by Robert Ragan

Everyone had their own God. A set of rules they lived by. Brent used to believe, but he was about to throw forgiveness out the window. Jesus should have been able to handle his problem with Judas. A fistfight and the loser got crucified. Brent, riding in the passenger seat, watched the world go on…

Switched Sides by Robert Ragan

I’m standing in line at the Kangaroo Circle with a pink can of Seagram’s Spiked Jamaican Me Happy. Two of the cashiers are talking about someone who just robbed the store and drove off in a black Explorer. Sure enough, two cops walk in the door wearing vests all in black. Immediately, my heart skips…

Positive Role Model by Robert Ragan

Larry Daniels was smooth, taking long drives from North Carolina to wherever the best prices were. Doctor’s weren’t prescribing pills the way they once were…so most of the heads were turning to heroin. With nothing but some kush, the re-up money, and a loaded 38 revolver…Larry crossed state lines thinking of everything that could go…

John Wisniewski interviews Robert Ragan

  JW: When did you start writing, Robert? RR: As a child I use to make up scary stories and drawing horrible pictures to go along with them. I won essay contests at school. When I was 19, I tried to write poetry every day, I did that for 10 years.   JW: Did you…

There by Robert Ragan

I was sitting on the couch playing a video game about to unlock a magical secret door when my own front door was kicked off the hinges. Agents rushed inside and drew their weapons on me. My hands were clenched around the controller. Two of them watched over me as the rest of the team…

Blood On Stacks by Robert Ragan

Waiting in his car in front of the Brentwood apartment building, Gary Walter is turned in his seat staring up at a window on the second floor. He slaps the steering wheel, “Come on! What the fuck are y’all doing in there?” Finally, he hears the sweetest music to his ears…gunshots going off. Gary is…

Outlaws by Robert Ragan

So many people want to be outlaws. They want the adrenaline rush that comes with the gunfire. They don’t realize the blood remains on their hands long after it’s washed off. Devin would make fun of you for having a conscience. He had the best work ethic of any thief out there. Creative when putting…