Detour in Texas Hitchhiker_No Thank Hugh_The Sweet Nostalgia of Summers near Savannah_GOOD &
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Detour in Texas Hitchhiker
Charlie“Oh, for crying out loud, Charlie!” she berated herself as she steered the old Harley off the side of the road. “You couldn’t possibly have chosen a worse vague-out moment!” To backtrack or take the scenic route for a bit, she thought, tugging the map from her pocket. She didn’t know why, but something deep within Charlie’s soul urged her to keep going forward. She looked at the map again, thinking aloud, “Pretty straightforward, woman; you’re now on Highway 287, so take it to Claude, turn left on 207, and follow it back to I-40!” She squinted at the map, noting the only intersection be...
No Thank Hugh
“Thanks a lot for coming in tonight—you are a wonderful crowd. Now get out of here!” Hugh’s trademark comedic snark teeters between sincerity and sarcasm. The audience does not know how to take his tone, so they laugh even harder, cheering and whistling at the close of his set. But Hugh is already off stage, walking through the venue's hectic kitchen and out into the dark alley before the waitresses drop checks on the comedy club’s sticky tables. The alley is empty and cold. Hugh puts his head against the rough brick of the building, breathes in slowly through his nose and out through his mout...
The Sweet Nostalgia of Summers near Savannah
The letter had been delivered in the evening by a desperate courier with a cart full of casualty notifications and return mail which no longer had a viable address. Here, letters were rarely filled with happy news, and I watched with a heavy heart as my wife’s shaking hands tore open the envelope, which wawww.onedoor.ccs dusted with ash and dirt. She skimmed the first sentences -- looking for “regret” or “apology”, the words which dotted the letter framed on our mantle next to my eldest’s school photographs. She breathed out heavily.“Eileen --” I started, but she cut me off. “It’s Harry. He’s fine, Jacob. H...
GOOD & PLENTY FAIRY DUST
GOOD & PLENTY FAIRY DUST by Joy StrouseIf someone had asked me my idea of hell, I would have told them, “Being stuck in a car for 10 hours with my sister.” I would have said, “Anyone but Katherine! Give me wicked Uncle Ernie or the screaming, bratty Rodriguez twins from next door, but please… not my polar opposite, Katherine-Not-Kathy Patricia Clark!” But nobody asked me, so the summer of 2005, my 18th, begins in hell. Our Grandmother is dying, and Mom has been in Indiana for the past two weeks, “getting affairs in order.” Grandfather has dementia and needs to be put somewher...