Fiction

Acts of mercy. Acts of love. Perry's winter ministry chilled him through. He could not help anyone. And he was getting fat, eating too much, exercising not at all. His sermons were stale. The words hung in the church, rippled up to the organist in the balcony, then died. The church smelled of dust. And…

On a Sunday morning in June, Paul and Judith finished cleaning their apartment, left the key in the mailbox, and drove across town to the house Paul had left on a gray and windy day last March. It was the first house his father had ever bought: a small yellow one with a green door,…

Baptized name, William; but in the main, except for when he was in the service, he can't remember being called anything else but Skeeter, no more than he can place when he started drinking so hard. Sometimes, though, this comes back to him: a summer night when he was maybe three or four, fishing for…

Willie Mae worked at the slaughter house slitting hogs' throats. From eight to six she stood with her knife and blood-spattered apron performing her task. Willie Mae was efficient. One sharp slash at the vital vein, one last shrill squeal from the hog and it was over. Bud picked her up at six in the…

"Laney, ready?" I grabbed my bag and ran after her. Slammed the front door behind me. It was a real crisp evening outside. The wind was sharp. Should have brought a sweater but too late now, she wouldn't wait for me to get one. I got into the car and slammed the door. Before we…

The first time Jack had to hunt a whale he went about it all wrong. He'd never thought about it much, so his confusion came as no surprise when he woke up one morning with harpoons in his lashes. After he'd picked them all out he decided to walk down to the wharves and talk…

I exhausted the local dentists. They had nothing to say. Even the specialists in the city were silent. All I wanted was an explanation. – Why are my teeth falling out? – You've been working too hard. – I'm a healthy man! – Don't argue. Cut out the night life. That's when it started, hm?…

This is a bathroom/animal/castration story. Dianne and Drummond Hadley have a wildcat that was given to them by the guy that runs the Desert Museum in Tucson. It stands maybe two feet high and is really substantial if you're used to looking at housecats. It plays. If you pull a wad of paper on a…

Before it gets lost into the void I want to tell about a letter that got written to the Denver Post years ago. It could have been as long ago as 1947 or 1948. It was apparently written in answer to a letter that had been written earlier and, judging by this letter the earlier…