Archive for the ‘March 2010’ Category
The Last Liverbeast
| by Steve Ramey |
Pittsburgh lay across the river valley like a skeleton unearthed, broken skyscrapers forming a rib cage above a spine of roads. McKitterick Kij descended, the antique Remington Safari rifle strapped to his back clip-clapping with each step. The last, he thought. But what else could he do? A hunter hunts. He zoomed his vision toRead more…
Brokers
| by Ryan Kinkor |
Despite a conscious effort to cease and desist, Will repeatedly found his hands rolling his black-and-brown spotted tie up and down his dress shirt. Nervousness was a common reaction amongst first-timers to a Negotiation, but that little factoid did little to still Will’s fidgeting hands. It felt just like the time he had stood trialRead more…
The Conquest of Space, and Other Dreams
| by Lawrence Buentello |
Some propositions were fairly simple; for instance, cooking breakfast, scheduling the car for regular maintenance, or visiting the beach on a Sunday afternoon. Becoming a space explorer was an example of a profoundly difficult proposition, one that required any number of complex steps, the least of which was a background in aeronautics. Herbert Wilhelm possessedRead more…
Court Out
| by A. J. Kirby |
No matter how much time I wasted getting ready, dad’s big green Slazenger bag slumped by the door; a constant reminder of the hour of torture that he’d planned for us. Even my sister, who generally went along with every one of dad’s Saturday afternoon schemes in a kind of uncomplaining trance, seemed mildly putRead more…
A Good Place for Graves
| by Clinton A. Harris |
On the seat between Vermillion Green and his pregnant wife, sat a syringe full of lethal purple liquid, visible through a semi-transparent plastic case, nested in a bed of foam rubber. It was either this or terminate Cerise’s pregnancy. A life for a life. It was the law. Adoria Leaf was the name of theRead more…
The Hole in the Wall
| by Michael Gross |
The weekend he moved in with her it rained off and on, typical for the Cape in January and exactly the sort of weather for curling up in a comfortable chair and grading papers while finishing off a pot of coffee. Instead, Jack spent most of Sunday lugging soggy moving cartons, with their peculiar smellRead more…
Ordering In
| by Caroline Taylor |
Is it a squirrel? A cat? You can ask Mama, but she’s still in bed. You peek. One tiny look into the darkened room. She’s on the telephone, her back turned away from you, the snaky black cord of the telephone stretching across her bare shoulder. Maybe she’s ordering in. She’s been doing that aRead more…
Together
| by James Bloomer |
Dear Elaina, The process of taking a pen in my hand and inscribing paper with ink is becoming less strange, relaxing even. Yet it cannot replace being together. Seeing you. Hearing you. Being reduced to the lowest bandwidth denominator is a frustrating experience, one that my brain tries to reject. I fail to believe thatRead more…