Author Archives: Ben Drevlow

Newcomers

Newcomers

FICTION by

The two brothers sat idling in the empty parking lot, sipping their beers and peering ahead to where the truck’s lights shone into the blackness.more

Snow Globe on the Pulaski

Snow Globe on the Pulaski

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Hail pelted the bus. Jasper could feel the bus shift with the wind, and his window rattled against the rubber casing. He was on a bridge over a hundred feet in the air, open to the elements but he felt claustrophobic. The sun had set an hour ago and he could only see a few sets of taillights bleeding out in front of him while the storm raged.more

Jake Paul Beats Mike Tyson

Jake Paul Beats Mike Tyson

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This is what it felt like to be the first person whose sword is cracked in two by a metal slug, announcing the first hail of gunfire that demeans your fellow conquerors into an Oh-those-poor-bastards of a footnote.more

Apology

Apology

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Rather than someone she’d slept with during orientation, and twice more their first semester, he was now the kid brother she’d give life advice and hand-me-down Looney Tunes sweatshirts to.more

The Fire

The Fire

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People keep telling you that time heals all wounds and you want to tell them to fuck off. You want to grab them by their faces, squeeze, and scream that it will never get better. But you only nod and walk away.more

Saguaro

Saguaro

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He points the camera at her bulbous green nubs, tastes salt on his cheeks for the first time in days, and touches her long, wispy white hair that reminds him of Myna’s. “Hey, I’ve started singing in the shower again,” he tells her, as if, like his late wife, she’ll be proud.more

So Much For Love

So Much For Love

FICTION by

Near the door, an older woman stops to ground out her cigarette underfoot. She looks me up and down as she twists real hard, like she could put out all the fires in the world. Me in my khakis, flannel shirt, and a borrowed wool coat. I clutch the invitation in my hand. “Hey, I’m here for love,” I want to say. “You got a problem with that?” more

Smoke

Smoke

FLASH NONFICTION by

They’re prepping him for surgery now. IVs inserted in matchstick veins, secured with tape, fluids dripping at a hypnotic rate. “You’re going to feel a prick,” the nurse alerts him as she aims yet another needle at him like a dart. I am a prick, he thinks.more

Please Excuse My Rrhoid Rage

Please Excuse My Rrhoid Rage

CREATIVE NONFICTION by

Imagine popping a squat to take your regular morning shit and looking down to discover that some homicidal maniac had committed murder in the water right below your unsuspecting cooter, despite the fact you’re an innocent salad eater who doesn’t even consume bread. Not cool, bro.more

Two Stories

Two Stories

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Scott, held the brick—room 204, and now the envelope. He slunked past the rancid stinking cafeteria, and past the mosaic of tiles made by the sixth graders, his tile—black with a single white dot in the center. His eyes smiled when they landed on his dot—his father, sinking in a murky sea.more