Author Archives: Rusty

Under the De Soto, fiction by Barrett Hathcock

We had a roof­ing job in Eureka Springs. Stu­pid name for a town. It’s up in the top cor­ner of Arkansas, almost in Mis­souri, stuck in this Ozark gul­ley, every street a down­ward spi­ral. There are no grids in Eureka. … Con­tinue read­ing

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Tipping the Jug*, poem by GC Smith

Red­necks and black­men old bud­dies and friends will stand now together with a clay jug of corn they'll drink to their health and com­fort each other with lies and com­fort each other with lies They'll talk of their dogs and the … Con­tinue read­ing

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The Hills are Alive, essay by Anna Lea Jancewicz

Yeah, every­body has a dead grand­mother story. They’re not sexy and nobody’s buy­ing. But this story is mine, and it’s not so much about the woman as it is about the place. I’m from a lit­tle coal town, McAdoo, in … Con­tinue read­ing

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Where to Buy Your Weed, fiction by Misty Skaggs

Her trailer was a ripe patch of excess, bloomed con­spic­u­ously at the base of a cliff on the edge of a bone dry, Bap­tist county in East Ken­tucky. The half-acre around it was lit­tered with faded Moun­tain Dew cans glint­ing … Con­tinue read­ing

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Uncles Charlie Loves You, poem by Misty Skaggs

I remem­ber tired, washed-out women warn­ing us young’uns with his name — “Uncle Charlie’s gonna come, gonna come all the way out here and get you." I remem­ber we believed it. I remem­ber the good ol’ boys round­ing up a … Con­tinue read­ing

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Lock No. 10, essay by Megan Lewis

Parker and he went out to the lock. He drove fast down dark roads. Roads that remem­ber us still. He parked. Next to the his­tor­i­cal marker— I think. We stum­bled through a star­less night, right down to the water. Right down … Con­tinue read­ing

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A Happy Ending by Murray Dunlap

How are you doing, Ben?” The cam­era man crunches down to take advan­tage of a bet­ter upshot. “Well, I’d tell you, but there is a stranger in my house who seems to be film­ing us,” I say with sin­cere aston­ish­ment. … Con­tinue read­ing

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Making Art, poem by Tim Peeler

Mak­ing Art He down shifted the Opal from third to sec­ond As they approached the inter­sec­tion of Hooker Road And Arling­ton Blvd, swivel­ing his neck in an instant Assess­ment as they sped on through the red light. You crazy son of a … Con­tinue read­ing

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A Wave of the Burger, by Dale Wisely

I'm in my patrol car and I ges­ture to let a big guy, dusted with white paint, make a left in front of me. He's dri­ving an old pickup bur­dened by lad­ders. There is a thick layer of debris on the … Con­tinue read­ing

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Two Poems, by Larry Thacker

I swim the vac­uum between your atoms sing along the dark mat­tered strands between galax­ies beyond imag­i­na­tion wit­ness­ing the base pat­tern of all worlds the mys­tery scripts hang­ing orna­mented about your thoughts I hum under your feet within the val­leys … Con­tinue read­ing

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