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Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Joined at the Seamless

The first printing of "Seamless" picked up today. Postcard insert still on the presses. By this weekend they will be getting numbered, signed, rubber stamped  - and readied for unleashing.

Friday, April 22, 2011

At Issue / Past Issues

AT ISSUE by T. Remington
           It’s good. This Friday, it’s a good one. I’ve sold three magazine subscriptions and it’s not even noon. I like this town. I didn’t like it last night when we pulled in, but today I see it’s a pretty good town. Ok, no it’s not a big city or anything, but I haven’t had one door slammed in my face yet today. Not one dog has been sicced on me. The ladies who don’t want to get our magazines, they apologize prettily. One even offered me lemonade. It tasted terrible, but that’s ok.
       How does a nice middle class boy from Defiance, Ohio wind up with this crazy traveling gang of losers and misfits, pushing lousy magazine subscriptions? It’s all Reverend Bailey’s fault. He might try to deny it, but he’s the one who had to go and tell my folks about me and Bobby. Someday I’m going to live in a city where no one gives a crap about what I do or who I do it with. Until then, I’m keeping my eyes open.
       But hooking up with Mr. Skice and his crew got me out of my hometown and that’ll do for now. No one on the crew talks to me much, but that’s fine by me. I’m not like them. I don’t curse and don’t go out for beers at the end of the day. I’m careful. I’m….good. Not always. Early in the week I’m useless, but by Wednesday something shifts and by Fridays, I am very good. Mr. Skice will tell you how good I am.
       Sleet is shredding the apple blossoms when the crew’s bus pulls out. Spring never lives up to its reputation in these Great Lakes towns. What does? It’s Thursday. I smile and wave goodbye even though none of them is looking.
      Closing the big front door pricks open both security and panic. She’s not an early riser and she can’t make a decent glass of lemonade to save her life, but for now, this is good. Or it will be tomorrow anyway.

PAST ISSUES by aleXander hirka
 
                                                          click on image to enlarge
 

Monday, April 11, 2011

Reading Remonda

story: T. Remington, image: aleXander hirka

     They begged, wept, threatened, cajoled and bribed through the night but still, in the morning, Remonda was gone. Without her placid buffering, they went at each other again. Soon territories were staked out, trespasses committed and violence was always a simmering possibility. Bliss had hastily barricaded himself upstairs and had to run Gristle’s gauntlet every time he needed to leave the house. Gristle claimed the bathroom and kitchen. She was sure she’d bring Bliss to his knees in a week, tops.
      Remonda went to Paris just like she’d always promised herself she would. It was  beautiful and many men fell in love with her. Over absinthe in the long summer evenings, she found herself telling each new lover about Gristle and Bliss. Each feigned interest, hoping to make it to the other side of her stories. None did. Not one. Ever.
      Word about the scandalous memoir penetrated even Bliss’s fortified second story. Gristle ignored the stories, but Bliss plotted. He’d spent the entire winter mapping Remonda’s arc out on the hallway walls. This memoir was certainly a message meant for him, something that Gristle would never figure out. With the cunning of the hunted, he made his move under cover of night.
      Safe, back in his lair, he turned the shrink wrapped treasure over and over in his hands. Gristle snatched it away, sending him sprawling. She had used his rope ladder to come in the window behind him and now stood over him, ripping the plastic from the book. By the time he’d righted himself, she’d flung it down in fury. He heard her dismantling his carefully constructed fortifications. Who cared? He had his answers now.
      He cradled the book, opened it and howled in anguish. It was written in French.

                                                                 click on image to enlarge
    story © T. Remington