New Pop Lit published a short story from me, “A Vast Conspiracy.” Read it here.
The canvas of Spec-4 Sullivan’s harness and the frame of his ruck dug into his back and he clutched the shotgun in his left hand. He cut through the jungle.
The insects dug into his skin, he had the sleeves on his jacket rolled up. He was on point. He was waiting for his turn to be over. Half the platoon was thinking the same, only “their turn” meant their short time.
He saw something shift in the bush. They were on a rough trail that ran up and down a mountain. He raised his hand with the machete and the platoon halted behind him. The LT stood up—Sullivan knew Krebs, the Top, the first sergeant, was giving the LT a dirty look—and came over to Sullivan.
“What is it?” the LT asked.
It continued and a gook with a bicycle came out of the bush. Sullivan dropped the machete and raised the shotgun.
“Get on line, now,” the Top said. He spoke with a measured voice. He never had to yell so much as just project his voice. People hated Krebs. “We’re not taking any chances again. I’m not having anyone sent home in a damn body bag.” Krebs turned to Sullivan while the men tried to hunker down in the thick bush on either side of the trail. The slope seemed to tense up when he saw Krebs’ broad frame approach.
I have not published much in the way of essays on this site in some time, for a reason. There is enough criticism and mountains of blogs on all kinds of subjects, where the author’s expertise is dubious (see any political/philisophical blog).
As for polemical writing related to literature and publishing, I have said more or less what I feel needed to be said. In the future I am going to be focused on creative work and trying to produce something people will enjoy. There’s enough critique online.
Thank you to the people that have read up to now, and I hope you keep coming back. There will be more stories and books in the coming years.
Fluland published a new story from me, “Night Customers.” Please read it and check out the other great work on the site.
The night shift at the sub shop had a certain peace to it. During the day the signs the night clerk saw out the front windows were tacky, reminders of how ugly the strip mall was. You could see how dirty it was in the day time too. At night he couldn’t see the grime, just the glow of the signs and night sky.