I imagine myself trying—searing my hand on the doorknob, kicking in the door, backdraft bursting out at me, fighting through the soot, and excavating the girl standing at the window. And I feel proud of myself. For what I would have done. What I almost do. But, don’t.… Continue Reading
The Demons of Ultimate Hell was our metal band. Our shitty, did-it-for 5-minutes-and-played-one-basement-gig metal band. We were too young to understand cruel but we sure understood stupid.… Continue Reading
If his own brother refused to stand at parade rest in the middle of a replanted forest on the ridge line above a played-out coal mine and let him fire a copper jacket hollow point a few inches from his milk white face, I sure as hell was willing.… Continue Reading
Heavens had to fall over, tsunamis had to rise, the rainforest had to awaken, the trees had to walk, and animals had to talk as an opening gambit. Something, anything mythical, extraordinary had to happen to stop this scourge.… Continue Reading
To the woman, the cookie clearly represented a cookie. It was not a metaphor or simile or allegory. The woman had never thought about cookies having a deeper meaning. But she dug deeper. She settled into her chair. She furrowed her brow. The gears turned and the chains flowed. Eventually, in a somewhat confused voice, she spoke. … Continue Reading
She’s three inches taller than me, but outside appearances don’t mean anything, she says. We’re all butterflies, nestled in our cocoons, waiting for the spring. I’ve been around for sixteen springs, I say, and shit never changes, but she says she’s talking about another kind of spring—that place each of us is meant to be.… Continue Reading
Today begins, as a lot of them do, with an attempt to reconcile a vague sense of shame with memories of last night. Drunks all over the world are this way, waking up thirsty and trying to figure out if they’ve pissed themselves. Given the opportunity, I’ll revel in self-pity for an hour or two, like a pig rolling around in shit, but today I have work.… Continue Reading
“The Man grimaced, stepped around The Donkey, and yelled at the ceiling. ‘Hey, why am I waiting in line behind a dumb fucking beast that doesn’t know how to do anything–and doesn’t grasp mortality?? Animals don’t understand time–I’m the one with a larger brain–I’m the one with a more wrinkly cortex–I’m the one with a soul!'”… Continue Reading
Mr. Northup began waxing poetic about anti-expansionists and abolitionists during the Mexican-American War. He exalted them like a guy talking about a girl he was still holding out hope for. These were men we’d never heard of. No movies had been made about them. No bills carried their faces.… Continue Reading
We call him Vampire anyway, in the way we do here in the hills when you let us peer into the dark, unswept corner of your soul. We don’t even remember his real name anymore.… Continue Reading