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Tag Archives: essay
Blue Lights, essay by Paul Crenshaw
When the cop pulled us over at close to 4 in the morning, my drunken uncle said to let him do the talking. The blue lights lit his face in the rearview mirror, and later it would occur to me … Continue reading
A Redneck Eats Thai Food, essay by William Matthew McCarter
I can still remember those dark days–not long ago–when you couldn’t hang out with a group of grad students at a university campus without someone saying “Let’s go get some ethnic food”–like they had just smoked a bourgeois blunt and … Continue reading
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Tramp On Your Street, essay by the Legendary Jim Parks
Six Shooter Junction – He had a spirit bag masquerading as one of those filmy little white plastic numbers they give you at Wal-Mart to carry small purchases. As the days of the trial wore on, he put his … Continue reading
The Hills are Alive, essay by Anna Lea Jancewicz
Yeah, everybody has a dead grandmother story. They’re not sexy and nobody’s buying. But this story is mine, and it’s not so much about the woman as it is about the place. I’m from a little coal town, McAdoo, in … Continue reading
Lock No. 10, essay by Megan Lewis
Parker and he went out to the lock. He drove fast down dark roads. Roads that remember us still. He parked. Next to the historical marker— I think. We stumbled through a starless night, right down to the water. Right down … Continue reading
Castoffs, by Lindsey Walker
How would this look to a cop, hanging halfway inside the unlatched window with C.J. boosting me through? It is dark inside, but I grip what I think is the short side edge of a farmhouse table, pull my knees … Continue reading
Leonard, essay by Brannon Miller
In my mother’s romantic history, between the bookends of her divorce from my father when I was two and her marriage to my stepfather when I was seven, there was Leonard. I remember Leonard being tall, with sinewy muscles stretched … Continue reading
Innings, essay by Jim Parks
I came by it honest, this business of writing up courthouse wars. It was what was going on that summer – forty summers in the past — in the heat of cotton season. They had disbarred the DA; the Sheriff's race … Continue reading
Hillbilly Rich, essay by Jeff Kerr
Sometimes I forget how rich I am. I’m not talking about the cash in my pockets, stocks, bonds or any of that stuff. I’m talking about the stories and characters that live, breathe and wail within my blood, marrow, bone … Continue reading
