Categories
Short stories

The bag smashers

The bag smashers
a poem

we met in a large oval
except for the outer belt
watchers
standby ticket travelers
plodding to the inside
with turbulent guts
i heard their deep retch
knowing a mess
may come
they asked bad stewards
ignored their connections
discounted claim checks
discounted gates onward
calling for old baggage
we wheeled novel luggage
and tied multicolored
bandana handles
for a United trip
picking up from a great jet
mending our new strains
then hard-buzzed warnings
of pushing flare chittering
some matching sets
‘merged through fringed boundaries
those shabby cases thunked
to work ‘round again
this terminal was home
left picking up
carrying it beyond

Categories
Short stories

Time tossed

Time tossed
a short story

They told us not to go into the DYE site during our initial briefing because it was unsafe. There were other reasons given; although, I can’t recall them. Radiation? Monsters? But after we got stranded, we wandered. Thirty minutes of snowshoeing on the hard snow seemed little distance away from the camp, still on the flat horizon. I followed Neil in a sliding tumble, up and over the bank, down to the ladder. When we stood hunched at the bottom of a snow bowl, the sudden, dim light temporarily blinded me after coming out of the bright arctic landscape. Neil snickered at the metal ladder leading up to a steel hatch as every rung except the top four sunk into the miles of solid ice below. There was no telling how far it descended. Before climbing, I took one last look at a snowy circle surrounding the raised structure and steel support columns like an oil rig on a frozen ocean. My thick boots barely fit between the rust-layered, round, metal rungs, up through the opening at shoulder height into a black hallway full of musty chilled air and snowdrifts.

Categories
Short stories

the Fly Trap

the Fly Trap
a short story

Our explanation would be the August heat. It stewed Delaware’s East coast in all kinds of ways after an unusually cold and stormy spring that extended into July. Thousands suddenly fled to the ocean for some relief in its breezes and waters. Their pale bodies laid out on towels that carpeted the beach at Cape Henlopen State Park. A full parking area showed the incentive through hazy convection – how visitors hot-hopped quickly beyond the sand-dusted boardwalk and restrooms to the water. Cool ocean breezes reached the expansive campgrounds, and there were isolated areas to explore. Still, no one paid interest in the sandy marsh trails that cut into the protected wetlands. Swim-suited vacationers focused on the shore. Signs about marsh history and its protective role to the ecology posted, but no one paid them notice but as useful places to hang wet things. Park rangers offered walking tours, but those events canceled – they became too busy policing crowds.

Categories
Short stories

Every dog has its day

Every dog has its day
a short story

Rob Bartell spent sessions with his therapist discussing methods to channel his anger. Now he focused on cranking the window down in his cheap rental. The cool air refreshed him. The folded American flag and medal they tossed him at the capital were in a backpack on the passenger seat. He still felt the governor’s handshake, which tried to match his.

[You were there, Bro.]