CYCLONE TRAIL_Mac_Unexpected Guests_Adenomyosis
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CYCLONE TRAIL
CYCLONE TRAILSometime in February 1936 The slimy-looking black ribbon highway reflected like a mirror in the early morning light. Nearby parked cars were covered with a heavy frozen mist, appearing like flash-frozen fish. It was dark and silent. No distant dog barking, no rooster crowing, just a page waiting to be written upon. Klamath Falls is like that in the wintertime.Standing by the side of the road was a young couple, nearly crouched as the man and woman defended each other from the blasts of southerly wind. One lone suitcase sat on the frowww.onedoor.cczen earth between them.The night stirred from it...
Mac
It is Alex LaCroix’s fault. Even as a 1st grader, I know he is pure Virginia white trash—all the LaCroix’s are, my mother says. Still, blonde haired, blue-eyed Alex Lacroix is the most handsome boy in class, if not the entire grade. Even if he is shorter than I am. It will be two decades until I understand the Napoleon complex, but Alex LaCroix has it in spades. Regardless, I’d have done anything for him, an angry little boy whose mother worked nights at ShopRite. We are lined up for a field trip to the woodlands behind the school. Excited, we carry little plastic cups with domed tops in our l...
Unexpected Guests
Climbing season seemed to have begun quietly this year. Maybe it was because Fall had lingered longer than normal. Maybe it was because the economy wasn’t particularly healthy but either way, I was down on hotel bookings. I had a cousin who was a whiz at web design, so I decided to call her and ask if she could help improve my web-page but, in the meantime, I thought a good Spring clean was in order. Or, a Fall clean, if I was being accurate. My little hotel consisted of ten rooms, a restaurant, meeting room, reception area and was situated in a valley near Monte Gavia in the Lombardy region o...
Adenomyosis
N.B. Story contains graphic description of mensuration as well as expressed violence.The steam whirls around her body in the small enclosure and the moisture touches her skin with gentle pressure. Below her feet, a pool of bright red water swirls down the drain. Thérèse* leans against the shower wall onto one arm and reaches up into her vagina to feel a squishy, gelatinous mass inside. She pulls on it and the red lump falls in a splat to the shower floor. It sits there and does not readily disperse into the circular metal grate. Another blood clot. This one is the size of a loonie. How much lo...