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Gary Hoffman

by Gary Hoffman


Sarah was so engrossed in her own problems, she didn’t hear the three men ride up to the front of her farm house. When one of the men called out, “Hello,” she jumped, and her hand went to her mouth. After smoothing her apron and running her fingers through her hair, she went out on the front porch.

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by Gary Hoffman


“In order to wear these socks, I’m gonna have to go buy new shoes that are two sizes larger than the ones I usually wear, or go without shoes at all.”

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by Gary Hoffman


“And where was the boat found?” Detective Brown asked.
Across the lake, sir. Over by Canal Point,” the deputy sheriff answered.
Brown looked at the bass boat, a Nitro like he would love to own, metallic blue with a two hundred horse Mercury engine. The only spoiler was the body slumped over in the bottom of the boat.

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by Gary Hoffman


I wasn’t sure what I expected to find in Apalachicola, Florida, but Kaitlin Mosby sure wasn’t it. Whoever coined the term “chick” must have had her in mind.

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by Gary Hoffman


“A hundred-thousand bucks is a lot of dough, boss,” Dave, the sales manager from Hollyhock Ford, said.
“Yeah, but we’ll never have to pay it. And look at the free advertising. I mean who’s going to bring in a real leprechaun?

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by Gary Hoffman


“What architect from hell drew up these blueprints?” asked Richard Shelby.
“No architect. Mumford.” Tony Jackson said.
“And just what is a Mumford?”

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by Gary Hoffman


I could always find a million reasons never to attend funerals, but when Chuck Temple was shot and killed, they all went to hell. He and I actually went back to Elementary School #34 in Pittsburg. My family had moved there so my dad could find a job. In a quirk of fate, Chuck started the third grade there on the same day and for the same reason. We’d been tight since then.

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by Gary Hoffman


Jacob was sweating and his stomach felt nauseated, but his Uncle Leo always made him nervous at these meetings. He watched as his uncle did his usual slow dance over his ledger books. The old man would run his finger down each row of columns and then look up at Jacob and give him a half-smile when he got to the bottom. He seemed to have a calculator in his head.

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Old #32: Mystery Short Story

IN THE March 4 ISSUE

FROM THE 2017 Articles,
andMysteryrat's Maze,
andTerrific Tales
SECTIONS

by Gary Hoffman


I got my job as a batboy with the Pine City Pinkies not because my old man was somebody important, but because I didn’t have one. Most batboys are hired because their old man knows someone or is an important person in the community. Mine left me and my mom when I was two years old. May 13, 1950, was the date he bailed out for “parts unknown to seek his fortune.” Mom still gets dumpy when that date rolls around every year.

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Spoon Murders: Mystery Short Story

IN THE November 12 ISSUE

FROM THE 2016 Articles,
andMysteryrat's Maze,
andTerrific Tales
SECTIONS

by Gary Hoffman


“Another spoon.”
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen,” Jake Potter said.
“Well,” Sheriff Police Walt Henley said, “most people who go around killing people are not what we’d call normal, now are they, Jake?”

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by Gary Hoffman


“Now don’t you worry any, dearie. I’ll have you back in sprouting form in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” Bertha Vincent told the sick looking begonia sitting on a bench in front of her. She took a pinch of her super, but secretive, plant food from an old coffee can and sprinkled it around the base of the plant.

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by Gary Hoffman



Dillworth was weird. He once complained there were not enough turtle races or turtle racing enthusiasts in the world. We were both enjoying a cup of coffee at Café Newburg. Now, I know Dillworth pretty well, and I wrote this off as another one of his ideas just to get attention. “You’re kidding, right?”

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by Gary Hoffman



Sheila pushed the play button on the answering machine. The beep sounded and a voice she did not recognize said, “Myra, this is Janet. I was supposed to pick up Scott at four o’clock in front of Hubbard’s Café on Midland. Please, please, please, pick him up for me. I really need to show up at Jason’s ballgame today. Thanks. Hugs. Bye.”

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by Gary Hoffman



Janet Figg checked her watch. She had one more stop to make before she wanted to get home. She always liked to be at home when Jeremy got off the school bus. She calculated the time for the stop and the time for her to get to her house.

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