I fear that by the time you read this . . . it will be too late. Forgive me, Vanessa. I am so sorry. As you are reading this, your fiancé is lost—caught in an act of obsessive compulsion that I, too, have fallen into. There was no malice in […]
At the Salmon Cowboy: A Found Letter Read More »
Grandpa Cobalt hated letting things go. Whether it was the wobbly chair he kept in his study or his favorite warped record he fed to the gramophone—looping the same groove over and over. He was a tall man with a frosty thin hairline and a nose capable of the most
It began with a smell of thunder. The night had settled into the empty spaces of the house as Malcolm made his way through to the living room, turning on lights as he went. He dropped into his armchair and opened his laptop to read the news, but the sound
Fishing With Clouds and Teeth Read More »
I worked a shrimp boat called the Melissa on the gulf. Hot, sweaty work but all the shrimp you can eat, so there’s that. Captain Mike was my boss, a wizened old salt. Rough around the edges, but a good man and a good boss. I worked with him out
The competitors of the thirtieth annual “Super fish” tournament sponsored by the Angler Warehouse could not have asked for a better day; seventy-five degrees and not a cloud in the sky. The competition was open to just about every type of fish that Lake Michigan had to offer, but when several large Pumpkinseeds or Rock Carp counted the same as an average sized Sturgeon or Catfish, the fishermen were always on the hunt for “the big one.”
