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Fiction
Fiction
Walking
Clea took my hand and we swung arms like little kids. At college, I would never hold hands walking down the street. But here, I didn’t care who saw me or what they thought.
November 1988Fiction
Lakestone, Minnesota
My heart bristled a little around the edges at the mention of Anna, but it was more like the wings of a bird, hit and dead on the highway, whose feathers flutter a moment from the movement of a passing Chevy.
November 1988Fiction
Mister Duck
He is a Southern suburban white boy now all grown-up, born too late for Vietnam and not late enough for high-yield T-bills, so he is stuck somewhere, an underground movement of one. That suits him fine.
October 1988Fiction
Permission To Speak
One night as I lay in my crib, my tired mother, her patience spent, came into the room and stole my voice.
October 1988Fiction
you never realized
a woman comes to the door, wearing a saffron robe, her straight hair in a brown bun, her face stern but capable of merriment. her long robes sway, shine purples and royal blues as you follow her.
October 1988Fiction
The Flag-Draped Coffin
Oron flanks left with the small platoon of formally dressed sailors, all in ceremonial blue wool, all armed with parade M-1 rifles. The overcast sky is ashen on this mid-November day, and the wind pulsates bleakly over this little land of the dead.
September 1988Fiction
No Pretty Country
I have not been close to my mother. We have been friendly, conventional, conversational — not close. I felt her love as a black hole, waiting to suck me in. I danced cautiously around its rim. Now it is safe to come close. It always was safe.
September 1988Fiction
Kudzu Dreams
I was a child with a peculiar and passionate hunger for the peppermint in toothpicks when I went on a lion hunt with Opal Lavender, who was my favorite person and one of my own people.
September 1988Fiction
A Night Swim
Phillip Fanno was playing with his food. He gave his pork chop a mashed potato beard and moustache, a julienned-carrot nose and mouth, and, not finding suitable eyes on his plate, cast about the table for them.
September 1988Fiction
Chased
She was chaste and chased. Miriam saw the men looking at her as she dove into the swimming pool, her body a golden promise.
August 1988
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