Travelers' Shorts

Travelers’ Shorts: “. . . I looked back in the mirror and saw Arnold looking at me. With his fierce tan and familiar gap-toothed grin, he was smiling at my reflection next to his in the mirror. ‘They look bedda on you den day look on me,’ he said . . .” Attacking Crows and Newspapers: “. . . I FLY AS I RISE in the dark dead of early morning, in that envelope of time long past late-night parties, before anyone else dreams of getting out of bed. My realm is that of the anonymous, mythical . . .” The Queen, the Birdfeeder, and the Mausoleum: “. . . Peeking out from the hallway, Curtis entered the living room and casually sat down near where I was sitting. As I stared at him in disbelief, he merely rocked in his chair and smiled as though he had just won the Nobel Prize. “Are you insane or wha—?” “Shhh…” He slowly got up from his chair while looking in the direction of the kitchen. I held my breath while the Queen stirred something in a bowl and Curtis slipped cautiously out the kitchen door to the backyard—seemingly undetected. “He’s just snuck out behind me, hasn’t he?” John Brake’s Wars: “. . . There was always something bizarre happening … Our neighborhood seemed to have been in a karmic spell that caused people to freak out and do strange things . . .” Bicycle, Heroes, and Poets in Suburbia: “. . . This is going to blow you away, man. Get ready to run.” Grabbing at knobs and switches on the elaborate console, Jimmy pulled out as many stops as he could reach. Leaning into the powerful instrument, he furiously launched into “Light My Fire,” jamming like a pro and blaring at full volume. . .” Attacking Crows and Newspapers: “. . . as the harrowing buzzing began, there appeared a terrifying flock of crows flapping frantically about my head and pecking at my face in a flurry of pitch-black beaks . . .” The Queen, the Birdfeeder, and the Mausoleum: “. . . I then noticed he was carrying his old BB rifle, clutching it closely to his chest. Alarms began going off in my head! Then, from the backyard, I heard screams . . .” Travelers’ Shorts: “. . . Spring break was already happily chaotic as the reckless denizens of colleges and universities overflowed the sidewalks and crowded the streets. My bright red Fiero, with its sleek, low profile, threw a sexy curve at the street crammed with boxy Jettas and BMWs. As the sun radiated off Palm Canyon Drive, lines of cars loaded with skin-revealing revelers inched along with stereos cranked up . . .”