by Jude Ellman The times were light, it was early summer, and a generally melancholic 16-year-old boy was catching his first glimpses of freedom. He was spending a week at the beach with some acquaintances from high school. He was a year younger than them, he had something to prove. […]
The boy leans over, picks up a rock, and throws it. The rock hits the coyote. The animal lets out a yelp, dropping whatever was in its mouth, and taking off down the trail. The boy puts his feet on the pedals and slowly rides closer. Damp dark dirt is scattered around where the coyote was digging. Something long is protruding from under the fence but then sticks up at a right angle reaching to the sky. Still straddling his bike, the boy leans in for a closer look.
“Gross,” the boy says in an awed whisper, as he pulls out his cell phone.
Squealing with excitement, Kateryna raced back into the room.
“The men outside my window blew me kisses. Oh, my God, they’re so cute. They have rifles.”
“They’re our heroes,” Svitlana said.
Writer Karene Horst shares her twisted perspective on relationships and the scars they leave behind with the first chapter of her novel moving men.
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