• Tess Gets a Taste by Andy Henion

    Garbage men don’t roll empty carts up to the stoop like that. Peer in the front window, give a little wave. They just don’t do it. I yank the Chihuahua’s leash mid-squat and hustle him up the long driveway, tiny turds falling freely. They’ve found us, and they’re three houses away. “JACK AND JILL!” I […]

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  • Suicide Watch by Andy Henion

    After a hot day throwing trash I report to county lockup. Sun-whipped and salty, I’m ready for some hours of self-reflection but instead get groaning and muttering from the adjoining cell. It comes from a man with a pencil neck and eyes the color of fresh concrete.

    “No reason,” he says.

    “I’m sorry?”

    “To live,” he says.

    “Right,” I say. “What’s your name?”

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  • Stuck by Andy Henion

    The dogs are stuck together, ass to ass, the much bigger bitch clearly upset and swinging her suitor against the oaks in a vicious pendulum. The male, a Boston terrier, yelps with each blow but this only seems to encourage his aggressor, a hundred-pound Doberman with ears like black horns. Wade’s sister-in-law Jeanne watches from […]

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