Category Archives: story

A Play in Three Acts

Act the First: our hero is abed long past any decent hour for proper folk to sleep when work was to be done. “Will’am Tinker!” came a cry from outside the daub-and-wattle house standing on the dusty road snaking through … Continue reading

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Santa’s Little Helpers

  Santa Claus is a mean-spirited motherfucker. George Herbert Randolph Richman lives in a big house on a hill. The house is surrounded by a wall. Atop the wall is a twisting length of barbed wire. A man in a … Continue reading

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Random Acts

No one knows when Rebecca Silverspoon Bourgeois first came under a geas of performing Random Acts of Kindness. Perhaps it was when her Ladies’ Book Club read that book Oprah hailed for milking anecdotes of the Inner City Poor. Or … Continue reading

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Phoenix Rising

  As we roamed off path through the park I came upon some lovely white toadstools sprung among the lovely languid emerald blades of grass beneath a copse of trees. “Hold up!” I told Leon, and turned on my camera, … Continue reading

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When Nature Claims Her Own

Gaea, the goddess of all the earth, is trying to kill me. I don’t know what I did. I’m on her side, for crying out loud. I’ve always known the Trees are going to win. I’m on their side. But … Continue reading

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A Crow With a Machine Gun

What’s black, sits in a tree, and is very dangerous? –children’s riddle It was sometime near the Solstice because that’s when quirky magical things occur, even if the rest of you are too beguiled by the agents of empiricism to … Continue reading

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Treated This A’Way

Saturday was moving day. Saturday it snowed. Monday night five tornadoes tore through the metro. Wednesday we were outside in shirtsleeves. But it snowed Saturday. Such is March in Missouri. I had reserved a truck to move my worldlies from … Continue reading

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The Rising Sun

On the northwest corner of Shepherd and Moore sits a barnacled cocoon transforming into some new species of working class home for an up and coming young family with scrimped down-payment and heads full of dreams. When I arrived in … Continue reading

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Effie’s Walnuts

The September late afternoon sun streamed through a leafy canopy arching over the cracked and patched asphalt street as through skylights in the nave of a deciduous cathedral. Blue was leaking out of the leaves, infusing the sky, and curling … Continue reading

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Cries From the Ground

Beaver Cleaver he don’t live here anymore. He used to. Back before my time. Back before Ed Sanders moved to New York City and formed the Fugs. Back when people of color kept to their own neighborhoods and their own … Continue reading

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