By: Clayton L. Luce
“Only broken people have all of the solutions. That’s why no one listens to them until they’re dead.”
Just as quickly as the dense wood had begun at the edge of the drainage ditch, it suddenly ended. We had come upon a strange, nightmarish clearing in the trees. Beyond us lay a scene from a terrible John Carpenter movie. There was a narrow rickety foot bridge, composed of a single width of 4 inch timber which ran like a single railroad track deep out into the swamp. It would require high wire balancing skills to even cross it.
We must be absolutely sure of our footing. Continue reading
By: Maven Cade Leary
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and is not intended to encourage or condone the violation of applicable law.
Part One: Arrive Early, Exercise Restraint, and Get Some Sleep
As soon as we left the city, the temperature dropped by at least ten degrees Celsius. I wasn’t prepared for this shit. I knew it would become a pain in the ass, but I could do nothing about it now.
Just keep your alcohol level up, keep moving, and you should barely notice the lack of feeling in your extremities, I told myself.
I’m not a wuss, but Quebec nights can be cold. Even in late June. You forget this when you live in Montreal. The smog and the cement everywhere do a great job to keep the night’s tee-shirt weather. Continue reading
By: Ernie Hurt
Within the last couple months or so, I’ve learned more about myself than I could have ever imagined. I rediscovered talents that id long given up on. I’ve come to terms with who I am and also where I want to go with my life. At this point of my life, I believe I have had sufficient time to reflect on myself and as well as my peers.
Throughout adult hood, I seem to have gone down a much different path that most sane, normal people would have avoided with all their might. The way I see it, since 18 or 19 years of age, I have walked the fringes of society. Not quite an outlaw and no less than a citizen. I tell myself that I’ve stayed in the grey area of life, mingling with good American apple-pie eating folks as well as drug dealers and users, while not falling into either sect. As we all know the best stories are always left untold and there are places that we could never fathom. Continue reading
By: Johann Galloway
What’s worse than sitting on a sofa unemployed, broke and bored? Working at a fast food restaurant, someone might say. Well, allow me to retort. Never underestimate the benefits of having a job where not much is expected of you. My experience working fast food wasn’t bad, and I even found some hidden benefits. It might pay to leave your preconceived reservations at the door, and consider some of your local joints. And if you do, let me share a few things with you.
Choosing the right place is important, but it doesn’t really matter whether you’re shoveling shit into a corn tortilla, flipping burgers or frying chicken. What’s important is that your work experience is as stress free as possible, especially considering the amount of money that you’ll be making. Therefore, before you apply at that joint you’re considering, go there sometime, in the evening, and order something. Take a seat in the dining room with a clear view of the kitchen, and observe. Do the employees seem relaxed and jovial, even if it’s busy? Or are they acting as if their lives depend on getting the orders out the drive-thru window in under a minute? Is everyone’s uniform unvarying, or is there a disheveled looking employee wearing jeans and another a Yankees cap? These are very important things to note because you don’t wanna work for managers who are uptight assholes that take their job too seriously. Continue reading
One Fathers Journey into the American Nightmare
By: Donnie Casto II
The American system of justice was a constant. Anyone who watched Perry Mason, Andy Griffith, Dragnet, or even Matlock with their grandparents on a Tuesday at 7pm knew that.
“Just the facts, ma’am.” I recall Jack Webb uttering in those retro episodes. It was those constants that carried me through with utter confidence and hope that along with my custody hearing being on my birthday, were all good signs that a three year ordeal to get full rights to my sons and daughter were about to come to an end.
As I looked up to the elevator door, sitting beside my sister in law, who in this portion of the story was to be my own personal Dr. Gonzo of sorts, and my mother, that as the door opened, I seen the laughing and arm in arm creeping death tag team of my ex-wife’s lawyer and the court appointed attorney for my children walking towards the judge’s chambers, I knew, I knew I was f**ked. Continue reading