Two years before I joined the Army, and two-and-a-half years before Chess had gone so obviously insane…
Fiction
In this excerpt from Alpha Mike Foxtrot (a novel from Paragraph Line Books), Joe Dugan, a soldier…
In this excerpt from Alpha Mike Foxtrot (a novel from Paragraph Line Books), Joe Dugan, a soldier…
On my last visit home to Florida, on convalescent leave from Walter Reed, limping and wounds still…
There was always something wrong with my twin brother, some little kernel of not-right. Chess knew it….
As a child, I was a typical, overfed, pasty and underexercised american with a lower-case a, with…
It all starts and ends with Jimi. When he began doing those hard crust rolls in…
The channels flashed by brightly, shadowing Richard’s watching figure up against the wall behind him. A small…
My crimes were mostly clerical, and I readily admitted to them with a shrug. No broke weeping…
Picture this: A pair of jump-boots, spray-painted silver, tied together by the laces and tossed up to…
The sales girl was generally pleasant, mild-mannered and dainty. Coming from a long line of sales…
You lie in the tub reading the new book of poems and think: there is no ink black enough for this man’s words. This is not the tonic you require but you read on with the compulsive satisfaction of a cigarette, trading time for the the pleasurable release of smoke. You glance at the medicine cabinet and try to remember when the half becomes the whole, the moon white promised antidote to enveloping darkness. You lay the bleak but beautiful book aside and sink into the amniotic warmth, listen to the random minor notes of the solar lantern wind chime, a perhaps unwise impulse purchase of a man on the cusp of unemployment but the tones are soothing, the intermittence dissolving time in a minor key.
1
As the youngest he is given the night watch. The sheep huddle together in the cool Judah night and leave him free to study the dark clockwork of the stars. Then wolves howl in the distance, and he is forced to walk guard, wondering what he would do with this simple staff of wood against determined yellow fangs, greedy for sheep. A gentle youth who would catch a scorpion in a palm leaf and turn it loose outside rather than crush it with a stone, he wonders if he has the strength to confront an angry pack howling for blood, if he is really meant to be a shepherd. As he walks guard the stars turn relentless in the heavens, unconcerned with his doubts.