Tag Archives: Fiction

The Legend of Jon Bamboo

The Legend of Jon Bamboo

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“Porn isn’t calculus.”more

Empty by Breaking

Empty by Breaking

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He looked in the mirror, turned to the side and sucked in his gut. Then he faced the mirror and flexed his massive arms and his stomach. He turned to the other side and extended his arm so that his triceps stiffened into the soft shape of a horseshoe. He faced the mirror again, letting his arms relax at his sides. He unfurled his body, letting his wide shoulders hang, letting his stomach out. more

Trot Trot to Boston

Trot Trot to Boston

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My wife’s mother has been with us for nearly a week. Our first few days home with our son were tough and we asked if she would fly in from the east. The request, we both agreed days before her arrival, was premature, erupting out of the seething stress following two nights in hospital aftermore

Higher Ground

Higher Ground

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For two weeks last fall, my friend Deno and I went into business together as snake removers. The reptiles had been flooded out of their normal recluses in the swamps and woods surrounding Meridian, and they had invaded people’s homes and gardens. Normally, I worked as a landscaper, HVAC repairman, and the odd handy man,more

Two Stories

Two Stories

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It all comes out, no matter how many years later. He hated that photo, but it was telling the truth.more

Crane and Hoist

Crane and Hoist

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Poor Joe Riggs. Time has slowed to a deceptive taffy-stretch for him while he waits for rescue.more

I Ended Up Saying Something

I Ended Up Saying Something

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I came to know them all. I knew them well enough to hate them. Except the artist. I grew to love the artist.more

Rafters

Rafters

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The old timers stare stony faced from behind our bench, and I think they are frozen in place for a moment, amidst a sea of people threatening to crash down onto the court and drown us all.more

A Convenient Funeral

A Convenient Funeral

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If you wanna be cool…more

Dolls for the End of the World

Dolls for the End of the World

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The warmth came and left, and, no sooner, it left and came. There was no way to guess what the world would become. At least it remained. Charred oak trees surrounded by misplaced puddles. Rivers as black as burnt cherries. Sputtering flames along the receding riverbanks. Days shorter and, still, longer. Patrick stood on themore