From the category archives:

Fiction

Scene One

November 9, 2004

FADE IN: EXT. DESERT – DAY A wind-swept desert plain. Dervishes of dust dance over the cracked earth and lead to an army-issue tent, which is tiny on the horizon. Close on the tent — a hand-painted sign reads “Lumaville Daily Echo: K—istan Bureau.” Below it, seated at a makeshift desk is a weatherbeaten young [...]

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Prelude to Drinks at Dawn

October 28, 2004

It was late when we started drinking. And hours since our host had abandoned us in his kitchen with a blithe “Help yourselves” before trundling out to the still waters of the River Lumaville and the boathouse astride its banks. The carelessness of the nouveau riche, I thought. His guests comprised the press club after [...]

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When Blake Speaks of Love

October 19, 2004

For Rigby, our paper’s theater critic, every evening was Opening Night, every meal jug wine and cubed cheddar, and every aspiring actress a Sarah Bernhardt — so long as there was a dressing room door to lock. That the dressing rooms were locked to keep Rigby out of them only caused him mild consternation like [...]

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The Bird

October 7, 2004

I’d heard it before ? clink, clunk, clink, clunk ? like some nervous junior exec sifting pocket change in his chinos. Everyone on the Backlot claimed to have heard it at least once and reported, variously, that it was “like an alarm clock being wound,” or “thimbles on a washboard,” and perhaps most lyrically, from [...]

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