What It Means to Be Haunted
byAt a party, as others sip beer around a campfire, you tell your friend he’s going to die on his motorcycle. And then he does. You can’t make the funeral…
Stories
Perfect White Ash
byOur table radiates slate blue in the back of this too-dark bar and restaurant. My drink is phosphorescent green, tastes fruity, and has gone straight to my head. My wife…
The Rung
byI used to go to the Hurst Hill Social Club when I was painting houses with Cal Reynolds. He’s been dead for a few years now, yellow jaundice. Cal loved…
A Friend Like Carl
byDoctor Wilhem was making his rounds when (this is how the story starts but I got the idea—appropriated the idea, sue me—from my friend Carl’s sister’s psychotic episode so, for…
Dying in the Cuts
byMaggie cuts. By the number of slashes, hash marks, crisscrosses, and scars, she’s practiced in hieroglyphs, a Rosetta Stone to translate her ancient agony into a modern-day understanding. One pill,…
Eye of the Storm
byValentino doesn’t have anything on him; he’s insurgent, a lover, and an ex-concert pianist with a handicap. Yes, I despise him, despise the way he could persuade me into his…
All Along the Zap Fence
byPhillis Too many folks wanting to see them whistling cows is why the credit union has been down one teller every morning. That gravel road past my house wasn’t meant…
Summer Creatures
byIt started with bees in the garden hose. Allison had gone to the back of the house and turned on the faucet, needing to finally water the yellowed grass, wanting…
Barry Denver Stole My Wife
byBarry Denver stole my wife the day after he stole my Cal Ripken, Jr. rookie card. It was a PSA-graded collectible from 1982 with a tiny grease spot on the…
Richard’s Ashes
byI found them in the crawl space. A thick cardboard box inside a less thick cardboard box, buried under action figures. I didn’t know they were the ashes until I…