Everything Is South of Here

Tales of the Arrowhead

#35 If Only I Had a Brain

A Closet Drama in One Act Cast: Narrator Character Author Stagehand Love Interest Furniture Movers Crowd of Strangers It is a rundown theater, once the proud center of the town high school. On both sides of the proscenium fade art... Continue Reading →

#34 Strangulated

March, 1797 When Arnaud began to snowshoe his trapline early in the morning, the weather was calm and warm—warm, that is, for early March this far north. One mile into his eight mile snowshoe trudge he sensed the change in... Continue Reading →

#33 Between a Rock Wall and a Hard Place

1543, The Season of Berries The cold and damp of early morning hunched over the mirror-calm lake. The sun had risen high enough above the pines on the opposite lakeshore to begin dissolving the tendrils of fog. Being careful not... Continue Reading →

#32 Aerial Bridge Lift

32 1996, February 2 “Get out of the house. You're drivin' me 'round the bend.” Ray ignored his wife and remained a lump in his chair by the picture window of their house on the hills of Duluth. Clarice repeated... Continue Reading →

#31 That Which Is Not a Horse, Part 3 of 3

IX By August Goldie matured into the teenage circadian rhythm. Now she slept until after her parents had left for work. On Monday, August 5, she awoke to see Mr. Johnson was not on his porch, no doubt, on one... Continue Reading →

#30 That Which Is Not a Horse, Part 2 of 3

VI And Goldie was going to be on her own this summer. Her mother was a free-lance typists/clerical worker/bookkeeper. In the past she had cut back on work and worked mostly out of the home in the summer to be... Continue Reading →

#29 That Which Is Not a Horse, Part 1 of 3

Newspaper Column “The Third Dimension” by Marigold Matton The Sharper the Knife May 27, 2013 Early every Memorial Day I take out my trumpet, clean it, and tune it. I practice for one hour. I do not want to scare... Continue Reading →

#28 Buck Fever; Time Fever

1953, November Early Saturday morning. A brittle-air opening day of hunting season. Two splashes of bright red stalk through the trees and brush. No sound. No wind. Scents will not carry. Deer will not spook. If care is taken Before... Continue Reading →

#27 Some Eggs Jus’ Don’ Peel, Dammit!

1979, Easter After Easter service I made a hospital pastoral visit and then stepped into the attached nursing home. I found my two residents, Gust and Elma, parked as neighbors in their wheelchairs in the hall. Long they had been... Continue Reading →

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