Listen, Irene. If I was just playing him, do you think I’d be out here in this walking the dogs? Jesus! If I were just playing, I’d be trailer trashing south for Arizona instead of here in winter walking his goddamned dogs. I made a commitment on him—even if he is tardy on that himself. … Continue reading Andi Finally Ballistics her Future MIL
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
There was a little quiet and a thump from down in the wooden chutes and I saw my Dad bob up behind a gate, then let himself down easy, looking down at the horse under him, one hand holding for a minute to the top of the gate. I knew it was him because of … Continue reading The Day Andy Giff was Champion of the Montana
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
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.
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
“It’s complicated,” Vereen Filimimore would say. It was her way of clarifying every point. If you asked her why she was late for a hair appointment or had forgotten her niece Becky’s birthday or why her dogs were marauding Fernie Isnoggle’s cattle, Vereen would say “It’s complicated.” People reacted in various ways to this excuse. … Continue reading How Complicated can it Be?
I had never out-bottled before. It was five thousand three hundred and seven years, one hundred and forty-two days. And nothing. Then one day, as I was marking day one hundred and forty-two on the calendar, I hear ‘scrape, scrape, scrape.’ And I am like “Eureka! Summoned at last.” In hindsight, it probably would have … Continue reading A Genie Comes Out
I am worried about my fellow citizens’ casual dismissal of the refugee’s humanity. So I have devised an experiment that may enhance their latent and lovely compassion. Here it is: On the coldest afternoon in winter, take your youngest child or grandchild on your snowmobile. Drive to the most isolated place you know of, somewhere … Continue reading You are Refugee
There were three doors for old Maddy Wilsawl to choose from, and all three of them exited into territories his seventy-five years had not prepared him for. Actually, he thought, there wasn’t much choice. He had come in one of them. Beyond it was a country in which cars drove themselves, people hired thieves to … Continue reading That Last Door is a Killer