The Glove and the Gavel
I want to tell you how I ended up standing in a feather factory in Sikasso at half past six on a Thursday, holding a steel contraption I…
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I want to tell you how I ended up standing in a feather factory in Sikasso at half past six on a Thursday, holding a steel contraption I…
The thing you have to understand about the fermentation barn at our vineyard in Nababeep is that it hums, all day and all night, a low…
The trail was quiet the way it only gets in the off-season, when the snow stops being something people pay to ride through and goes back…
I woke up on the floor of an engine room, which is not a sentence I ever expected to type, let alone live.
The mud was everywhere.
The mic squealed when I set it back in the stand.
Meg came into the pallet drop yard a few minutes after midnight, and the door rattled shut behind her and the sound rolled off the…
I leaned on the rail at the stern and watched Dover shrink behind us.
I got the grease gun up under the axle of chute four and squeezed until the fitting took what it wanted.
Evelyn Mackey clocked out of the feed store at six fifteen on a Tuesday, and her whole body felt like a sack of chicken feed by the time…
The heat was stupid that afternoon.
Glenna Swenson had better things to do with a day off than fight strangers over furniture.
The hum of the tubes never stops.
Nadine here.
I'm fifty-two years old, and until a year ago the most reckless thing I did on a Friday night was leave the dishes until Saturday.
The snow starts around four in the afternoon.