By Charlie Dickinson
With THE CAT AT LIGHT'S finish, Charlie Dickinson brings jointly an affecting identify tale a couple of kinfolk dwelling out of a beater van with an inspirational, if slumbering, cat at the dashboard, and 13 different tales, all initially released on-line. a various collection--characters diversity in age from 14 weeks to 102 years--these tales acquired the nod from such editors as Richard Cumyn at BLUE MOON assessment, Frederick Barthelme at MISSISSIPPI assessment, and Frank Thomas Smith at SOUTHERN pass overview. furthermore, "La Mosca" released at AMARILLO BAY was once nominated for inclusion in e2ink-1: the easiest of the net Journals 2002.
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Extra info for The Cat at Light's End
Eightyone? ” I want to warn Jimmy about that hostage thing coming up, but it’s too late. Smiling eyes, toothy grin, all his attention’s with Connie Brennemann next to me; she got the Neighborhood Watch program going. I’d just spoil the occasion. And who else understands this Iran thing? He sidesteps away, greeting others, then there’s a limousine from somewhere, and Jimmy leaves. The sirens of the four motorcycle escorts say it’s over. ” The voice is still speaking, though much more softly. *** Funny, the sirens are coming back.
The dishwasher, same thing,” JoBecca kept on. “It might bother him in six months if something else doesn’t get him first. I don’t know. Your father’s one complicated man. ” “Oh,” Trinity said, pleased her mom was telling her more, but unsure what it meant. They sped up Broadway to Fabrika over in the Hollywood District not talking, wipers on intermittent, and JoBecca absentmindedly humming along with the easy-listening love songs of Radio Ten-Ten, as if everything, one day, would be A-OK. *** The following Tuesday, in her room, where the bed was made and even the study desk organized, Trinity gave Bailey the bigsister scoop on valentines.
He closed his eyes, imagining a miracle shot, every last marble rolling out simultaneously. His eyes open, calm, he read the three feet of asphalt out to the marble bunch. He put his left fist under his right fist for an air shot. The thumb tightened up behind the aggie until his thumb bones would pop, then without realizing it, the aggie shot out like a bomb—clickety-clickety-clickety—the marbles exploded all over. Two went for the chalk lines. The trusty aggie spun in the damage. Benno exhaled big relief.