Monthly Archives: October 2016

Tin Dreams

Jeb leaned against the door jamb, sleeves rolled up, skinny arm stretched across the doorway. He gazed out across the prairie, smelling strong coffee brewing in the kitchen and an omelet frying in butter. Purple, red, and yellow flowers were scattered across the grassy plateau and the sky couldn’t get any bluer. The fig tree was weighed down by hundreds of fat figs. Jeb, the warden said, handing him a metal cup with steaming black coffee. The warden’s hands were beat up from his former vocation in construction. Marla came up from behind Jeb and hugged him, her black eyes looking towards the warden. She wore a kerchief that encircled her perfect doll’s face. How much is all this worth to you? asked the warden. All what? asked Jeb. Continue reading


A silver wolf head glowered, half-covered in dirt, from the bottom of the pit. The coffin had been torn open, bones strewn about as though by animals, the human corpse’s skull half-smashed. A corpse demon sat in the shadows, shivering, a skinny little thing, toothy and hideous. At the top of the dirt hole, half-in, half-out, lay a couple of grave robbers, entrails ripped open. They had a burlap bag up on the grass spilling out gold and silver artifacts. An old witch observed the scene, elbow on the gravestone. She spoke in a very deep voice: They didn’t get far, did they?

They broke his skull. Can’t get into heaven looking like that, said the sexton, puffing on a long pipe. That one was never on his way to God, said the witch. And he left behind a corpse demon. It’s down there in the hole. Continue reading


Dad looked out past the croquet lawn with its haphazard wickets to another farm some distance away where flames could be seen, and smoke. He shook his head and turned back to the kids. Souls are slippery, he said. If you don’t believe me try grabbing hold of one. You’ll never get it. You’ll lose your mind trying. He lifted a pitchfork and launched it like a javelin over the lawn and it landed sticking straight up in the duck grass. Jenny and Jimmy held their croquet mallets and stared up at Dad. Even with his stoop he was a tall, imposing man.

Just then a car skidded to a stop behind them, gravel crunching under its rubber tires. You see the space-man? Willie said, leaping out of the baby blue convertible. The spaceman, you see it? He pointed over by where the fire burned and there was, in fact, a figure levitating, silhouetted up in the smoke.

Calm down, Willie! Calm down! Dad said. I’m worried about you. You talk too fast. You’re gonna have a heart attack. Now what makes you think you saw a spacema—And now Dad saw it too. It looked like it was spinning in the hot air above the fire. Well, let’s go check it out, Dad said. Continue reading