(this is an old post I’m replaying, because I want to…) My spiritual advisor taught me how to communicate with trees. After my first attempt didn’t go well, I confronted her. That tree you sent me to told me to get lost. She gave me a look of disdain. What did you say to upset … Continue reading
A used tissue occupied the middle of the five seats at the back of the bus, crumpled and sticky white against the blue fabric. I chose a seat next to the window, leaving an empty seat between me and the nasal debris. At the next stop an elderly man entered and chose the seat next … Continue reading
(two Buddha heads observing an abandoned Borders) A memoirist, currently being celebrated as a literary sensation, recently stated, “What’s the point,” after being asked about fiction, as if it were pointless to bother with a made up story when you could focus on the real thing, as if his life, or the self, was all … Continue reading
This is an old story. Originally it was a flash fiction piece before being slightly expanded. I had fun with the language but it doesn’t fit in with where I am at currently, so I’m publishing it here since I’m not trying to do so elsewhere. Knowing the air around Joe had always been contaminated, … Continue reading
When I struggle to write, I begin to doubt my intelligence; when the writing goes well – even when a story feels complete – I question its quality because it came from me. I doubt I’ll ever put the past behind me, not completely, or that I’ll ever be satisfied with where I am at. … Continue reading
Hopefully one of these days this lone publication won’t be so lonely. http://www.epiphmag.com/fictionepiphanymagazineissue7.html#hill Continue reading
Setting: The small drab auditorium of an old elementary school or church. Our hero stands at the podium addressing a sorry-looking bunch of mild-mannered men hunched over in their metal folding chairs. Our Hero: Hi, I’m a recovering animal. A chorus of grumbling Hello’s and Welcomes bubble up like simmering lava. Our Hero: As most … Continue reading
(finally, some high-brow literature..) My spiritual advisor taught me how to communicate with trees, but my first attempt didn’t go over to well. That tree you sent me to told me to get lost. She gave me a look of disdain. What did you say to upset it? Nothing, I did just as you described. … Continue reading
james keeney hill 