Tag Archives: william trent pancoast

Salute, fiction by William Trent Pancoast

I sit by a win­dow on this twen­­ty-degree-below-zero morn­ing and think what it was like for my dad and all the oth­er kids in the Ardennes try­ing to dig fox­holes in the frozen rocky ground, with oth­er kids try­ing to … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Goosy Gus and the Cash Mob, fiction by William Trent Pancoast

(orig­i­nal­ly appeared in Revolver) Gus had acquired the name “Goosy” because of his shell shock and bat­tle fatigue from WWII and now he was no longer allowed in his daughter-in-law’s donut shop in down­town Cranston even though eat­ing donuts was … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Vietnam. Fucking Vietnam, fiction by William Trent Pancoast

The dark­ness start­ed on my lunch break at the fend­er fac­to­ry. I went out by myself that day, late in Feb­ru­ary with snow on the ground, yet with full sun­shine, the sort of day that promis­es some­thing but you know … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Hill Tide, fiction by William Trent Pancoast

As Vio­let jos­tled among the church crowd and exchanged greet­ings, she tried to recall the sound of the spring that spurt­ed year round from the base of the hill behind the cab­in. But the voic­es and heat pre­vent­ed her from … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Jim, fiction by William Trent Pancoast

Jim twist­ed the skin­ny trunk of his body in a fast, vio­lent jerk just as the cop grabbed the buck­le of his left Harley David­son boot. When the boot flopped off, Jim found him­self sit­ting upright, ready to jump up … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Portrait of a Robot, fiction by William Trent Pancoast

He doesn’t know how he got this way. Crazy, that is. Most things, you think about them long enough, you come up with an answer. All he knows for sure is that he got to work this morn­ing in his … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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