Out on the farm, in the dead of night, no one was asleep. Beyond the trees and the end of the driveway, big, bellowing vehicles roamed up and down the road running north-south, red lights strobing, blinding flood lights sweeping the eastern edges of our property. We were under threat of invasion by some dark … Continue reading The Masque of the Monochrome Marionette
On a clear day, the basement flooded. We had no sump pump. “I’ll siphon it,” Uncle Ernie said, grabbing a hose. He stuck one end through the hopper and the other into his mouth. Ma said, “That hose has been lying in the garden all summer. No telling what might’ve crawled inside.” Ernie’s eyes widened. … Continue reading A Drabble: Uncle Ernie
I was part of a team sent to represent the Lincoln chapter of PFLAG at a national convention in Arkansas. The convention was at a church, in a town where much of the industry that had kept it alive had dried up, leaving whole blocks deserted and streets in disrepair. The church was also a … Continue reading Hunters Become the Prey
A great darkness had fallen over the city of Lincoln, placing all power in the hands of a very few, making it so we could not get jobs and were persecuted for not conforming. A group of us went to a big trailer in the Near South neighborhood that had been converted into a church, … Continue reading Sopranos and Dead Cats
Original Pub: Plains Song Review Volume VII 2005 A sun pillar in the middle of June. I-80 whispers underneath and a pine wind slips in through your half-open window, racing round inside my Toyota, trying to escape again, scattering the haze of sun-drenched vinyl and old Doritos. And, straight ahead, that improbable, fugitive monument to … Continue reading Sterling
Original Pub: Paradigm Journal: The Jackson Issue Winter 2009 On John Reily's first day at the new school in rural Nebraska, Mrs. Clarkson stood him before the third grade class and introduced him to the silent room. When she asked him to tell the class where he was from, John said, "I'm from Colorahdo." His … Continue reading John’s Germs
Do you want me to hold your hand? I asked her. No. I can do it by myself. The hole was just wide enough for two to lie side by side. When she was comfortable, she looked up at the blue rectangle of sky for the last time. See you tomorrow, she said.