A Cabin
Valparaiso Fiction Review, Summer 2023
An unmarked country road led Stevie and Ruth into the foothills. The Appalachians disappeared behind a thick canopy of trees as Stevie slowly drove the car over shallow bridges crossing a spring-fed creek guiding them through the weft of pine and cedar growing thicker with every minute. Their GPS gave out as they drove further in, but hand-painted signs placed by the rental company marked their way to the cabin. Stevie put the car into off-road mode to climb a steep hill, hanging his head out the window to get a close look at the dirt sliding under the tires with each turn.
“I don’t think they rent these cabins only to people with 4x4s, you know,” Ruth said.
“Can’t be too careful right now,” Stevie replied.
Shutting Down
Cleaver Magazine, Spring 2023
Stevie watched the road. Driving right now made him nervous. Cars moved tightly in each direction on the highway. Stevie’s wife, Ruth, was next to him in the passenger seat, and their friend, Helen, shared the backseat with the dog. Everyone sat in silence, Stevie driving, the others thumbing a phone. Stevie tried to concentrate.
“So many more cars than I expected for a Sunday,” said Stevie.
Helen spoke up from the rear seat. “Normal for this part of the country.”
Stevie started to say, “Maybe it just feels crowded because of,” but he trailed off.
“Whatever it is that’s happening,” said Helen.
Coming Home
Museum of Americana Literary Review, Winter 2022
Miller went back to the bar after his discharge from the Army. Going home excited him with memories of his friends sitting around a table filled with pitchers of beer. He enlisted in the Army two years after he graduated the university and he did not return until his hitch ended. His friends were still there at the old bar when he showed up to ask for a job.
Bartending would be easy. All Miller would have to do is take orders and pour beer. Students arrived for lunch and again after class, with lulls in between. Miller wrote down their orders and handed out their drinks. It didn’t require much.
Going without work was impossible for Miller. Unemployment drove him to the Army, and he’d be damned to go without a paycheck again.
THOMAS JOHNSON 