The high oak-board wall cutting across Prairie Road was overwhelmed with graffiti, portions of which were obscene, though chemicals and pressure washers had cleaned some of these areas away. These scoured-off areas left the wood’s surface rough, and were large enough for the high school’s art students to attempt to create vivid paintings of the Garden of Eden, the Statue of Liberty, and Christ’s burdened march through the crowds toward Golgotha. Words such as “survive” and “united” and “faith” spread through these images, as were phrases like “Support Our Troops” and “God Bless America.” Each scene had the added painted adornment of blazing, glorious crosses and flowing American flags. (more…)

*click*

Officer Johnson: “Interview with Dan Hopper started ten forty five AM. Present, Officer Stuart Johnson and Officer Mike Reilly. So, Mr Hopper, why don’t you just start at the beginning and go from there.”

Dan Hopper:: “Look. I’ve already told the other officer what happened, 3 times now, why won’t you just fucking listen to what I’m saying?” (more…)

I

Jimmy  Thompson

My evening in West Texas begins in a Mexican cantina with a Miller and large chili. The chips seemed heavy, so the jukebox in the corner becomes my focus. I play a couple of Fleetwood Mac tunes while sipping beer and slurping chili with a plastic spoon. Gazing out the window, there is a small Indian boy in a corral. He’s trying to pull a wild horse into a barn, which is a spectacle. The mood in the cantina seems sour, had the news spread? How many more like me were there? Strange nervousness affects my composure and chili dribbles form my mouth onto the table. The jaw munches in slow motion. Now, I am eerily aware, that people in the cantina are becoming uneasy with this performance and my sudden lack of neatness is causing stares. Damn this planet. I leave; no tip this time. No, there’s a need for fast wind to ease this tension and loose my nerves; my aggression is seeping and becoming impetuous. (more…)

The man lit his match on the cement guardrail along the edge of the building. He touched the flame to the tip of his cigarette, and then flicked the match off the roof. Cigarettes had become a rare sight, and Jack suspected that the man had killed someone to get that pack.

He was a big man, the bulk of his weight centered in his gut. A thick, brown beard covered his face. He wore a flannel shirt, torn in several places, and a pair of dirty, faded jeans. Chubby fingers plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, which was curled into a smile as he stared at the roof across the street from him. On the ground Jack made note of the shotgun leaning against the guardrail, as well as the pistol tucked away in the man’s pants. (more…)

I wondered if this whole thing should become one of those ads in a gun magazine. You know, the kind you’d see next to the monster truck magazines at check out lanes all over the south. A big picture of the latest word in pistols, shotguns, or rifles, full of garish ads for laser sights, gas masks, and calendars of half naked women cradling fully automatic weapons. Yeah, I could see it now. “The day the world ended, and I all had to count on was my trusty Smith & Wesson.” That would be printed across the top of the page in bold letters. Below it would be a picture of a ragged but defiant survivor, calmly cradling the zenith of firearms technology. (more…)

When I was a boy, my brothers and I used to play a game. A group of us would go out and find a wasp’s nest in the ground. One of us would give it a swift kick or three. The game was where we’d have to outrun the wasps. Once we were safe, we counted up our stings. The guy with the least amount of bites would be the winner.

We never played for much – a couple of skin mags, maybe some cigarettes, possibly a couple of dollars. I never won at it anyway. My brothers – bigger and stronger, and probably quite a bit meaner than I’ll ever be would always beat me. (more…)

Suzy was a petite blond with shoulder-length hair, high cheek bones and an upturned nose. Her eyes sparkled and she was in the habit of lightly touching people as she talked. People assumed she was a cheerleader because she was always so perky. She flashed a winning smile. It was perfect camouflage for the shark within. Suzy was full time student, part time barista, and an opportunistic thief. Some people are only pretty on the outside. (more…)

All you gotta do is smile and smile…

-Dolly Parton

Merrillville, Indiana-

Although I really didn’t like staying in the diner, most of the people there were making too much of a fuss out of the situation. One lady kept going into the small women’s restroom (GALS) because she said she felt safer not being seen though the big windows. That was annoying me, and she would get hysterical if anyone brought any problems to her attention. Maybe it was her husband’s lecturing. After ten minutes or so, she would creep out of there and be all collected again. That is until someone said something to set her off, and then her dramatics would flare-up all over. She eventually pissed her pants and I wanted to ask her if she was taking meds, but, as always, I really didn’t want to get involved. Ironically, she let herself go in the dining area. (more…)

I suppose this answers the question about the existence of a human soul. By all rights I know I should be gone. At least I hope so. I should have listened to the preacher more closely. Learned what I had to learn so that when I finally pass from this torment, I know my soul is going somewhere.

When I was eight, I had a bout of chicken pox coupled with pneumonia. I was told afterward that I came very close to dying. All I remember was the pain, itching, and feeling like my chest was going to implode every minute of every day for what seemed like years. I was convinced it would never end. I was too young to understand death, so I couldn’t even wish for that. All I had was the feeling of burning and freezing, shivering and sweating, my skin crawling under the warm sheets, and the muffled sounds of people talking. The tone of their voice told me it was serious, but I had no framework to understand what was happening, so all I had was panic and pain. (more…)

Tibby remembered the words out loud.

“Shoot them in the head the radio transmission said. That was when there were still radio transmissions to be heard.”

Tibby lifted the rifle to her shoulder. She got the AA battery in her sights. She pulled the trigger and removed it from on top the mailbox at the end of the driveway. (more…)

Dr. Eckhardt sat up straight and arched his lower back trying to work out the knots. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eye before replacing them. How many hours had it been? Not that it mattered. He had not been home in a month. With no windows in the long, narrow tile covered room, time was measured from case file to case file.

The florescent light above him flickered, went black for a moment, and then came to life. (more…)