In this impersonal age of cyber friends (like me), witch hunters who never meet in person and gaining the gospel from unholy sources David Henson’s My Powdered Friend is a satire that is uncomfortably close to being true. As in much of David’s work, he takes a bright, keen, even flippant tone, which intensifies the darker themes. And he has the great knack of making you believe just about anything.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – My Powdered Friend by David Henson”
This double tribute to his hometown is Tom at his best, and we feel that you will agree with that assessment.
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Walk a ways with me, here by the Saugus River and the Old Iron Works, where I played as a boy, where arethusa bulbosa (dragon’s mouth orchid or swamp pride) waits for spring and new reeds to hide the young of red-winged blackbirds, where indentured Scot servants worked off their passage, where Captain Kidd brought his treasure to bury on Vinegar Hill (not found yet by boy or man), all leading me to say: The Hour Falling Light Touches Rings of Iron (at the First Iron Works of America, Saugus, MA): You must remember, Pittsburgh is not like this, would never have been found without the rod bending right here, sucked down by the earth. This is not the thick push of the three rivers’ water hard as name calling… the Ohio, Allegheny, and the old Monongahela, though I keep losing the Susquehanna. This is the Saugus River, cut by Captain Kidd’s keel, bore up the ore barge heavy the whole way from Nahant. Mad Atlantic bends its curves to touch our feet, oh anoints. Slag makes a bucket bottom feed iron rings unto water, ferric oxides, clouds of rust. But something here there is pale as dim diviner’s image, a slight knob and knot of pull at a forked and magic willow. You see it when smoke floats a last breath over the river road, the furnace bubbling upward a bare acidic tone for flue. With haze, tonight, the moon crawls out of Vinegar Hill, the slag pile throws eyes a thousand in the shining, charcoal and burnt lime thrust thick as wads up a nose. Sound here’s the moon burning iron again, pale embers of the diviner’s image loose upon the night. Oh, reader, you must remember, Pittsburgh is not like this.
(On back cover of the book, “Small Victories for the Soul VII.” Wilderness House Press, 2019 and Back Home in Saugus.)
Image: Banner Pixabay.com
Saugus Honor roll image from Wikicommons images
Ah, the brave year of ‘15. No matter the century, I’m certain that someone will claim that she/he walked ten miles uphill through snow both ways to and from school, upon recalling 2015. Time distorts perception and makes exaggerant raconteurs of us all.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Everything Happens For a Reason by Adam West”
Shaming works. I can no longer bear the terrible weight of Hugh pointing out every week how no one ever offers to take on the challenge of suggesting a story for Literally Reruns. I’m going to pull myself out of my narcissistic reverie on my own stories long enough to break the chain. And throw down the gauntlet to the next person. And any other hackneyed phrases that might offend all you literary readers enough to prove that you can do better.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns—L’Erin Ogle—How to Raise a Monster – chosen by Shawn Eichman”
We conclude the weekly version of the Sunday Reruns with the only rerun of a rerun I’ve ever brought back. It’s a high class story by Hugh Cron called The Swans. (The Reruns will return in January as a monthly feature.)
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This early gem, The Number 26 by our own Diane M. Dickson, involves a group of lives which end with the cessation of one heart.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – The Number 26 by Diane M Dickson (11th December)”
As advertised, our stories come from all over the world. Although most are from the West due mainly to this being an English language site, we are often given sensitive, intelligent glimpses into the mores of various cultures. Still, when you get to it and remove all the traditions, we are all human and hurt much the same.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns-They Always Welcomed Visitors by Mariam Saidan”
Jane Houghton‘s LS debut is one of the most complex tales in the archives. The Girl With the Feet features one of the best prolonged suspense scenes I have ever read. You can feel yourself wanting to jump in and advise the Joshua, who is not a very lucky person
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Every now and then a story comes by that makes me slap my head and bemoan the fact that I didn’t think of it first. Such is the case with this week’s rerun Watching It Move by Alex Reid. Still, there ain’t a great idea that can stand up to clumsy handling; but Alex timed this perfectly and the result is satisfying as well as a cause of envy.
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There’s a great sense of loss on many levels in Tim Frank‘s first LS story, Dodging Traffic. The underlying suicidal nature of a childhood game; Nina’s bleak future; the neighbor who was “carried out on his shield,” and the inevitable assimilation of gentrification make this a multi-liveled marvel that is almost impossible to dissect–without going on and on.
It’s easier if you just read it. You won’t regret it.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns Dodging Traffic by Tim Frank”
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