LIVING IN THE COUNTRY • by Chris Bruce
How a moose got into the cabin, I do not know. We’d been down to Rosa’s café for a hot bowl of chili verde on a cool night, and I could’ve sworn I closed the door on our way out.… Continue Reading
How a moose got into the cabin, I do not know. We’d been down to Rosa’s café for a hot bowl of chili verde on a cool night, and I could’ve sworn I closed the door on our way out.… Continue Reading
“We could always just run it over,” Patricia said. I wasn’t paying much attention. The November sun was smudgy white against a harsh gray sky, and I was thinking how very lonely the sun looked, how barren eons of existence… Continue Reading
As Brian struggles with the condom, there’s a creaking outside the cabin. His hands freeze. He and Natalie lock eyes, their breath smoking. They listen for several seconds — wind scattering leaves across the wraparound porch, branches shivering. Brian slides… Continue Reading