Here’s a brief excerpt from the short story hey man which captures the bond of friendship and the processing of loss, disguised by a tale of a couple of guys going to get firewood. There’s also chainsaws! The full story can be found in the chapbook Keep Door Closed.
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The question hangs unanswered but for a low grunt of receipt. No need or expectation of reply this early in the morning. Familiarity fills the gaps. The truck door creaks in futile protest as it slams shut, at the same time as the truck begins backing out of the driveway. Fresh diesel fumes join the damp air of the cab and attach to the dripping condensation on the windshield. The driver reaches over and turns up the 80’s-metal emanating from the dash—the wail of guitar triggering involuntary muttered singalong—further diffusing any need for small talk. Both pairs of eyes point out the windows, seeking nothing.
Out in the streets
The dogs are on the run
The cats are all in heat
…
