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Fiction
Wind
That damned wind! It did whatever it liked. It caressed your hair, your legs, your shoulders, your breasts. I hated it, Kristin! I wanted to kill it.
August 1989Sheltr For Sad Ould Men
The old man had walked a long way, from afar, and he was not well. He wiped his forehead and raised his head. Around him were sand, thistles, and strangely — where did it come from? — a house.
August 1989Living In Lotus
Ever since the therapist said, “Rebecca, if only you’d let go once in a while, relax, flow, you’d be a lot happier,” I’d been trying to write in the lotus position.
August 1989Summer
The summer I was fifteen my father moved out, my breasts grew in, and my mother told me to call her Eve.
July 1989My Date With Marilyn
It must have been a real publicity bust for Marilyn and her people. I mean, here it is thirty years later, and I’ve never seen anything about it in all the flood of words about her since.
July 1989Buddy’s Story
A few old men were sitting in front of the store, watching a car come through the heat waves. The buzzards rose up from a dead dog to let it pass.
July 1989The Things We Learn
I know what he learns in church: Jews killed Christ. He knows what I learn in Temple: how to kill Christ and get away with it.
June 1989Yahbo The Hawk
Again and again he flew against the window so mercilessly I was scared he would break his neck. Then his eyes glowed with wrath.
June 1989Leaving The Dead
My mother wanted to flush our pet goldfish down the toilet. My brother and I thought we at least ought to look after its death since we hadn’t done much for its short life.
June 1989Mary Unger, Empty
Mary waits at the foot of the stairs. She means to go up the stairs and back to bed but feels too exhausted to make the climb.
May 1989
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