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Everything Is South of Here

Tales of the Arrowhead

Final Story: The Bottom of the Birdcage

2011: May 7, Tuesday Afternoon “Who would name a little girl Myrtle in 1935?” Catherine Vasovic spoke to no one in particular, forgetting about the short, thin, young, part-time, bottle-blond reporter sitting at a desk six feet away. They were... Continue Reading →

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#38 The Cutting of the Ties, Conclusion

Allison at the Abyss Winter, 1996 Because the month fell hard on many others in her life, January fell hard on Allison. The tilt of the earth put a tilt in her life. The short daylight made the days long.... Continue Reading →

#37 The Cutting of the Ties, Part II

Eff-eee-Two-Oh-Three Summer, 1995 With a we're-colleagues-you-and-I smile, Allison asked the front desk receptionist seven days later, “What happened to Constantine?” The woman read Allison's name tag. “What makes you think anything happened to Mister Gekas?” “I didn't see him around... Continue Reading →

#36 The Cutting of the Ties, Part I

The Queen of Smiles Fall, 1996 Allison Hartman is one of those impossibly-perky-no-matter-what-the-situation sorts. For a few people the first impulse on seeing that smile is to slap her in the face. For most the impulse is to hug her.... Continue Reading →

#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 →

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