Pickles are not Among the Chosen.

“You know, really, pickles aren’t green,” Edna said. She was emptying a jar of koshers into her mouth. Vern, per usual and to remain on the safe side, did not say anything. He kept head down and his brown, work leathered hand dipping the soup spoon into the oatmeal and lifting it into his mouth. … Continue reading Pickles are not Among the Chosen. →

Phil Paints Tighty-Whiteys (Unfortunately)

The first thing Phill Uperdone noticed that early November morning was that yellow was everywhere. The next thing he noticed is that there was no purple. The studio was a vast wash of yellow ocher and cadmium yellow (deep, medium, and pale); there were lemon, Indian, golden and gamboge yellows, and these were smeared, sprayed, … Continue reading Phil Paints Tighty-Whiteys (Unfortunately) →

Orson Dwid Meets a Neighbor

Orson Dwid had just about had it with the guy wearing the bright pink shirt and scintillating green jeans. Where the hell do they sell that kind of. . . . Orson could not think of an appropriate adjective to describe whatever the guy was wearing. He was going to say ‘shit’ but it was … Continue reading Orson Dwid Meets a Neighbor →

I Only Go Because I Need

I looked at the clock on the tower behind the big church, and it was 11:32. It was five hours and twenty-eight minutes until they served at the shelter. I crossed Main and went up 2nd past the fruity tutti bar. Everybody knows me here and just scowl and tell me to move along. They … Continue reading I Only Go Because I Need →

A Neighbor, a Bull, Some Purebred Cows, and a Dilapidated Fence.

This morning Archie Dwiddlen was retrospecting about some of our old neighbors. It seems Alden and Issac were neighbors with a fence between them. There was a some confusion about who should maintain the fence. Alden was pretty sure it was Issac’s potion of the fence that Alden’s mongrel angus bull was sneaking through to … Continue reading A Neighbor, a Bull, Some Purebred Cows, and a Dilapidated Fence. →

A Word Jeffry will Never Forget

When I was fifteen or so, I was all thumbs, mumbled stutters, and longing gazes. One day our English Teacher, Mrs. BrainBury—that’s right she capitalized both Bs—chose to use these personality traits as an example during the “vocabulary minute” with which she started every class. She chose one other person to help illustrate. This was … Continue reading A Word Jeffry will Never Forget →

Hunger is Almost a Language

“I could pot one,” Isaac had said. “And you could probly wing another before they had your guts out and feeding ants,” Her father said. “So, for once, keep it in your goddamned pants.” Ida Eastwill would remember that until her dying day. She would remember the hot sun, and how heavy and useless the … Continue reading Hunger is Almost a Language →

I’ll Take Thirty Days Till Spring

“Did you bring his bail,” the girl with bright chartreuse hair said. She grinned. It was a smirk. “No,” “Obviously,” she said. I did not ask her why she bothered to ask the question. She sat on a high stool in a little room. There was a thick glass window between her and me. Her … Continue reading I’ll Take Thirty Days Till Spring →

The Reason I Need This Job

In the morning, OM and I walked to O’Maley’s for a job. Mother stayed with Too Many to nurse him along. He had pneumonia. We had enough for maybe two-three days to pay for Too Many’s room at the Tuck Me Inn. Doc Randy said he needed a couple of weeks rest, at least. So … Continue reading The Reason I Need This Job →

A Hospital Bed at the Tuck Me Inn

Too Many leaned his hands over the fire barrel. He was shivering. “Jeeze, it’s cold,” he said. A thin sheen of sweat glowed on his face. In this cold that couldn’t be a good thing. “You Ok? Toom,” I said. “Jeeze, it’s cold.” I looked at the clock on the tower behind the church. The … Continue reading A Hospital Bed at the Tuck Me Inn →