Broodwood

Part One. Now’s when you tell me why you killed me, the man says from his resting place, slumped and halved and bleeding against the wall of the cabin. The walls and floors and roof are cedar, and they smell fragrant in the summertime, but in the winter they smell like the bitter, indifferent cold

Back on Earth

~Part Nine~ You are close enough, you decide. You wait. The men share a glance between themselves. The larger man returns to the truck and sits inside, behind the wheel. He waits. The first man walks to the back of the vehicle, which must apparently be empty and open. The man confirms this by dropping

Back on Earth

~Part Seven~ You don’t move. You wait. The other door of the truck opens, and the second man steps onto the road. He is larger. You cannot see his face. Leaving the door open and the truck’s engine running, the second man walks around the front of the vehicle. He stops to stand between the

Jack, or was it Jake?

I. Jack. Or Jake. I don’t exactly know for sure, ’cause everybody used to call the cat one or the other. One night old Paul’d be in and see the skinny cat hangin’ out in his usual spot at the end of the counter. He’d holler, “How you been, Jake?” And cat would nod and

Back on Earth

~Part Six~ The man ducks his head back inside the truck. You notice for the first time that the man is wearing a baseball cap. You vaguely know what baseball is, but you’re not sure. Presently however, you can’t devote any attention to attempting to remember baseball, you are too consumed with trying to hear

Back on Earth

~Part Four~ You don’t move. The truck comes to a stop. The door opens, and a man gets out. You know it is a man. You know the difference between woman and man. The man is hidden in shadow and a hundred paces away from you, and you cannot see him very well. But, it

Back on Earth

~Part Three~ You hear a sound. It is small, far off. You listen. You know the difference between hearing and listening. The sound you hear is that of an automobile’s engine. Most likely a truck, for the distant drone is deep, low. A guttural growl, instead of a car’s comparatively angelic hum. You know cars,

Back on Earth

~Part Two~ You look up at the stars. You attempt to orient yourself by them, because you have that vague idea the stars are formed into figures called constellations, but you then realize you don’t know enough about these constellations to chart any kind of course. Then another thought comes, and you stop thinking of

Back on Earth

~Part One~ There is a bright light. Then, everything else, all at once. The stars and the trees, and the grass. You know it is night, and you are standing in the middle of a country field. You don’t know how you know this, but you do. You look down at your hands. You know