A Story
“Wasn’t that just awful?”
When word came down Jackie began to cry. At a wooden fence beside the hay barn, he dropped the fork in…
Mark had not seen a sunrise in six days. His eyes were bandaged and a surgeon named Kim amputated his right arm yesterday.
“How’s my scur — sc — “
The nurse named Jones leaned in.
When I was a kid vacations were in black and white. At a sleepy lake in the forest, branches leaned toward the water like…
“I was wondering why painters wear white.”
On the banks of the Obion River in June of a past year, two figures sat on wood-framed camp stools of canvas. The older man…
There was a town called Copper Junction. It was demographically pure with familiar last names like Wood and Davis, Miller and Putakowski. The town was organized around an idyllic central square with a courthouse in the center which housed municipal offices and a small jail which saw little use.
In the dark hotel room a small green light flashed on — off in less than a blink. It was in the center of the ceiling in the eye-line of anyone who was, say, lying on the bed trying to sleep. The rate of the flash was random which itself was maddening because Becky needed to make sense of the…
On the river formerly known as Piscataqua in the state formerly known as New Hampshire a boat was moored to a buoy. It swayed when the wind blew and drifted sometimes seaward and sometimes landward. The hull was dilapidated, brown and crusty with bits of peeling fiberglass.
HAM
The lobby of the Sentinel Hotel in Montgomery lay under the thick blanket of summer. Sluggish fans orbited overhead with no effect. Circulation came through open doors in the front and back of the lobby where hatless men in…
