Introduction

I go by the name of Miles G, and I'm starting this blog to share short stories that I'm working on.


This blog will exclusively be used to share short stories, with occasional posts on where books can be purchased.


Some of the short stories will be connected to one another, but each short story can be read on it's own.

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Hanging With Wolves

 A modern retelling of David and Goliath, taking place in a modern day drill rap beef. Hanging With Wolves   The air in the martial arts studio smelled like disinfectant, sweat, and that rubbery mat scent that never quite went away. Ten kids, all between the ages of four and six, shuffled around barefoot in oversized white gis. Their belts sagged and twisted, one dangling like a scarf, another knotted like shoelaces. David crouched next to the smallest boy, gently adjusting his front foot. “Not like that, Javi,” he said, tapping the inside of the kid's ankle. “Turn it. Boom, there you go. You ready now.” Javi nodded, trying not to grin. Across the mat, two girls playfully argued about who kicked higher during the last drill. Another kid spun in a slow circle, arms out, just to hear the swish of her pants. David clapped twice. “Line up! Let's reset the kata from the top.” They scrambled into something resembling a line. Crooked and chaotic, but a line. He moved down the r...
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Mezmorized

Inspired by Wiz Khalifa song, Mezmorized.   The faint smell of weed lingered in Jay’s Harlem apartment, mixing with the low hum of Wiz Khalifa’s The Thrill playing through the speakers.   Jay sat on the edge of the worn leather couch, his gold chain catching the slanted sunlight cutting through the blinds.   The smoke from the spliff in his hand swirled upward, curling lazily toward the ceiling before dissipating. J ay sat back, a smirk tugging at his lips as he passed the blunt to Devin, who took it without looking up.   Devin’s eyes were glued to a scuff mark on the hardwood floor, his shoulders slumped forward like he was carrying a weight he couldn’t put down.  “Man,” Devin muttered, barely lifting his head as he took a long pull.   Smoke billowed from his lips in a slow, resigned exhale. “I still can’t believe it.”  Jay leaned back into the couch, stretching his arms along the top like a king surveying his domain. His grin widened. “What you ...
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Only a Case

Excerpt from my book: A Mailbox Money Story Only A Case The sound of the cell door clanged shut behind Tee Walker, sealing him in once again.   He leaned back on his cot, hands folded behind his head, exuding the calm confidence of a man who had seen this all before.   Around him, the familiar sights and sounds of jail hummed: guards walking the tiers, prisoners chatting, laughing, or just waiting for time to pass.   Tee wasn't fazed.   He'd been here too many times for this to bother him.   This wasn’t his first case, and to him, it wasn’t going to be his last.  Tee’s cellmate, Ronnie, a quiet older guy who’d been doing time longer than Tee, sat across from him.  He stared at Tee, almost admiring how relaxed he seemed.  "You ain't sweatin' this one at all, huh?" Ronnie asked.  Tee chuckled, barely opening his eyes.  "Man, it's only a case.  They ain't got shit on me." He shifted his position, more comfortable than someone locked in...
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