... department, a little too pink. But still usable. I’d thank her but odds are I’ll never see her again in my life. There’s a fire truck with an ear-splitting battery-operated horn, and that’s just like the fireman shirt —​he’s sent something that makes too much noise in every gift box ever...

... down to a rope fray and flopping down next to Kiley in our small, bony bed. I’ll admit, passion’s a bird flown off long ago. But love, that’s a bigger bird, y’know? Where’s Kiley now, I wonder. Halfway to forever without me. And Calvin? He ain’t got much time...

... at a picnic table a ways off. That lady was really fat, brother says, yeah, sister chimes in, I’ll bet she loves the deep end more than the shallow. Of course, brother says, can’t you see all those dumb little brats splashing around near the steps? I’ll bet I’ll just bet that lady would never sink...

... denim. How should I know where your daddy hides his smokes, he said, so the little girl scratched at her pale see-through skin, Y’all boys like fire, I’ll show you fire. She laughed a laugh that was almost a cough. First the cold air inside. Then the brine and shrimp stink, from the tank...

... in general. "Always historicize" characterizes what we do— cultural specificity, and trying to push the boundaries of how you think about that. When I'm explaining my job to somebody who's not an academic, I'll say it's like being an A&R person at a record company. I think about the person who...

... raise my riffling skirt. “They’re white,” I yell triumphantly. “I lose,” his profile grins. “I’ll buy ice cream.” At a picnic table beside Chautauqua Lake, I try to engage him with stories about my school, but his veiled eyes look...

... to. Plant a forest floor atop these conifers and I’ll be first to mole up and sun this tonsure. But inquiry shot through the mind’s cavity just ricochets: we’re less empirical than tide charts. Take me: I measure my neighbor’s wheat, track his...

... there? Today, driving across the Maumee, the engine barely making it up the incline, today we’re playing this game called reconstruction, we’re building —​ I don’t know. I can’t ruin any more mysteries. I can’t say this any clearer than I already have, but I’ll try...

... and tell her I’m safe, I’ll be in touch soon. I grab my favorite box of 45s and crawl out the window into the backyard and run. It’s a beautiful day and I want to run. I want to hide. I want to tear down the walls that hold me inside. And when I go there, I’ll go there without you and without your...

.... If you want to see Jeff and Nadine fall in and out of love turn to page 126. (This sounds banal so I’ll give some specifics. Nadine is wearing a faded-mauve-colored shirt with a Peter Pan collar, smok- ing a Camel crush cigarette, standing near some paper birch trees. Jeff thinks smoking...

... possess a secret family: some- times, late afternoons, practicing my cello in the tan hills overlooking our house, I’ll see an arm fling out of her tiny circular window —​a signal that she’s hungry —​but is it really her arm every time? She could have an entire other family up there, and I (holding...

... blackly in the folds of knuckles. “Want me to fetch it?” Though he knew crows would be play- ing rowdy by now. She shaded her face, her pretty gray eyes. “No, no. It’s alright.” “I want to,” he said, coloring. He was angry at himself and angry at her. “I’ll run up.” “Too late...

...Sean Lovelace © 2013 Sean Lovelace 2013 Sean Lovelace 18 to 22 Me? I’m squared away. OK, maybe I drive slower. I drive slower. Sometimes I will confuse actual wheels and thoughts about wheels. I’ll think well, both take you places and I will smile into someone’s fore- head, like...

... is the best expression of my gratitude. Thus, as quiet as this candleflame, as quiet as my tall empty glass of milk reflecting the candleflame in our dresser mirror across the room, I’ll slip into bed, and I’ll pull the gauzy covers up over my voice and body. Gute Nacht, my daughter. You may not hear...

... and assume that Dr. Jerome is a morose and macabre man, two words I’ll confess I knew well before SAT prep as someone who is a certifiable word nerd and, in case you’re wondering, has also tested negative for Asperger’s multiple times. (I may be eccentric and somewhat socially inept and prone...

.... Mind you, my peers don’t fully accept me; they sense that I came from the right side of the tracks; but the world makes little distinction among us. So you see, I don’t belong, yet I do belong here. I’ll lead you around, try to keep you safe, introduce you to the oddities. I speak...

... needed a drink. “I’ll have a Maker’s Mark, please. And a 7-up.” She smiled at the bartender, who winked at her and turned away to fix her drink. She downed the whole thing in four gulps. “That’s a mean cocktail for a lovely young lady like yourself.” Jack O’Dell, Senior Vice...

..., no matter how cold it gets, and tonight it’s so cold that my nostrils froze together when I walked home from my shift at the appliance outlet. He’s not a real pastor, just a homeless guy, but people around here call him Pastor James. Sometimes I’ll slip a buck in his hand. He...

..., smashing them to planets. I got paper bags of old beer cans. They make my house smell sour, but one day they’ll be tall black-eyed Susans jutting out from an old tire swing. I’ll run the chains bolted to the tire with ribbon, maybe nylons. Colored L’egg nylons —that​ kind that comes...

... a Vegas act. It makes her sad to talk about him, so I don’t ask much —​better to just consider him dead. I inhale the last of my sandwich, light up a cigarette. I’m think- ing I’ll go back to the pawnshop tomorrow. Who else Sal got? I’ve been there nearly two years, and now I’m feeling bad...