Democracy in Action

The place is full of birds, chirping. Quiet. Reverential, Preacher might say. Trees rustle along the river below the flat spot where the speakers stand. They’ve brought chairs, for those who are waiting to speak. There’s a whole row of the biker chicks, snapping their gum, cleaning their sunglasses, tapping …

Weathercock

Pen doesn’t want a cigarette. He wants a drink. His girlfriend is out back again, high in the trees. She’s pulling feathers again, doesn’t even know she’s doing it. Scares him to death. He puts down the little stack of mail, turns on the hall light, sings the security code …

Iscen

Pen, hand on the bannister, looks from Iscen to Callie Moorehouse, his mouth open in disbelief. Callie is nine. Nine. Dav’s age. She’s littler than Dav. Her hair is tied back in one of those hairties with bobbles on it, for God’s sake. “The people coming, he wants to meet …

Wind Is Picking Up

It doesn’t matter that it’s been nearly three years since they were both – officially – killed in combat over in Afghanistan, along with the rest of their squad. They’ve spent that time flying below everyone’s radar, and it’s kept their paranoia sharp. A career in the military lends itself …

Keys

“Well, first of all,” Barret is saying in his dream, “I don’t really get why there’s such a reluctance to actually get the instruments to play together, in these student pieces. Unless we get all Adorno on it and talk about commuter trains.” There’s a polite inquiry from the back …

A Lesson in Improv

It started off quietly. Bored, Dance had lain back there resenting the heat. They’d parked on the last one of three concrete house pads at the end of a rough-graded gravel street. The developer abandoned the project some time ago, judging by the fourteen-foot volunteer trees shading half of this …