August 29, 2019

    Balthuzar al-Muhammed tried to lock with the icy blue eyes of the interrogator. But the man, who had never introduced himself, looked just past Balthuzar’s head while asking questions in a monotone drawl. With his finger, Balthuzar rubbed his thin mustache. He was...

August 29, 2019

     “Just saw a UFO,” I told her. I lay in bed with my cell phone pressed to my ear, my eyes full of dazzle, brain running its pragmatic subroutines to make sense of it all.  I wanted to believe but didn’t have the knack. With this, as so many other things, I put my f...

August 29, 2019

     The pickup was loaded with furniture which he planned to sell in town.  He drove slowly down the highway so the canvas tarp wouldn’t blow. There had been some rain that afternoon and he knew the old dealer would pay less if the furniture was wet or in any way dama...

August 29, 2019

       “To look at the river now,” I said.

       “Makes me forget it was a dry river bottom…. We used to run circles in.”

       Brett and I stood on the rusted-over Union Pacific truss overlooking the Ventura River, now flooded from El Niñ...

August 29, 2019

       Red dust coated the top sides of the leaves of the maize and pigeon pea plants that lined the two miles of dirt road leading to the village. Tim remembered that when the main road had been dirt, red dust coated the top sides of the leaves of the maize and pigeon...

August 29, 2019

     Sixteen miles.

     Broken up, strategized, it had seemed utterly doable: two miles out and two miles back in each direction. Quantifying it. Breaking it down. Adding it up.    That was the ticket.

     Sixteen miles.

     But...

August 29, 2019

     I don’t look more disgusting or smell any worse, not to my knowledge, but all of a sudden on October 23rd I, Stewie Marx, am re-named El Creepo.  

     Sprawled across our couch on the fourth floor, I can feel it in my teeth how vicious the winds are...

August 29, 2019

     The store above the love-themed café sold hats. It took Cheyenne a year of drinking red-tinged coffee almost every day before she ventured upstairs to check out the hats.

     Hats were something extra. Unnecessary. So was drinking coffee the color of blo...

August 29, 2019

     She’d followed the unfolding story with the obsessive fascination of someone passing a multi car wreck on the freeway, slowing down so as not to miss a single detail of the tragedy. She moved from the newspaper to the internet, then back to the newspaper, and back...

August 29, 2019

Looking down from 

my spot on the bluff

I saw the ribbon of 

river shift from light

to shadow, dodging

the sun as a sailboat

made its way toward

the bridge. I sat in a

rocking chair on the

front porch and drank

my first cup of coffee,

as had become my habit

in the last week, tryin...

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