The desert circuit. I’ve talked to people in the business, in LA, and they always look at me funny, like we’re crazy. It’s long drives in the middle of the night, and heat, and dive bars, I tell them, but we’re the only Rolling Stones tribute band that does San Bernardino and 29 Palms and Palmdale and Mojave and Ridgecrest. The folks appreciate us out there. They’re good desert people. We drink beers with them after sets and get free work done on our tour van.
Read MoreFor the third time, Maritza pulled her watch out of her bag. It wasn’t just her imagination; she’d been in the bus line for more than forty-five minutes. She regretted not using the bathroom in Cine Yara, but the ones without water were revolting and she’d calculated that she could wait until she got home. She put the watch away.
Read MoreLillian Burke stood by the attic window and looked down at the
many cars that had flooded the driveway. She tried counting how
many there were, which was tricky. The glass was filthy, patchy with
dirt spots, and already it made things fuzzy. But the rainfall outside
was getting heavier and heavier, thus blurring her view even more.
Thankfully, the people who’d come to her house clearly were fans of
color. She could spot the cars even through the wet haze.
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“You must not tell them stories like that,” Fran scolded. “The children were up all night. They were terrified.”
Photo: Jr Korpa
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The rivers of America are spotted with small, uninhabited islands which are no different than forests, other than their accessibility.
Photo: Chandler Cruttenden
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The men driving the cart coughed as they slung the corpse onto it.
Photo: Cederic Vandenberghe
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