The waterline crew is replacing temporary asphalt with a more durable patch, compacting soil, applying tar, and refilling with asphalt. The focus, however, is on the crew’s adeptness with the shovel.
Knights of Shovelry
new short fiction
The Saving Lemon
A couple weeks ago on a warm May afternoon we attended a baby shower in the beautiful backyard of a stately old South Pasadena home. On the way in somebody had left a basket of lemons under a sign that read “Free Lemons. Take One.” I took one thinking it was part of a baby shower game—count up the seeds, squeeze the most juice. Baby showers always have those awkward fertility ritual games. Well pretty soon I found out the lemons were just lemons. One of the guests had had a surfeit of them, and brought them along to share. [Read More]
In My Ex-Dentist’s Chair
A man and his dentist endure a two-sided conversation.
She Used To!
I was the night shift cashier at a gas station/mini-mart in Bridgeport, California one summer. Ours may have been the only gas station or store open all night on that stretch of 395 between Mammoth and Topaz. Not too many people pulled in, but we got enough to make it worthwhile to the station’s owner. One night in late August, just before four a.m. when the chill was really beginning to set in, an old MG roadster bounced up to the pumps. It was top down and stacked with suitcases, crushed u-haul boxes, picture frames, a bit of old carpet [Read More]
If a Famous NYT Restaurant Reviewer Sidelined as a Private Eye
The woman who arrived for the appointment was a sigh of silk and tall brunette as she slid into the booth for her free consult. The waiter appeared a moment later, before we’d had a chance to introduce ourselves properly, perhaps a touch too prompt and efficient for the siesta service, but maybe he’d been short-tipped one time too many by young money boys who hadn’t earned their lunches yet. He smiled and greeted us with a trio of small plates: an amusing salmon croquette, two shining slivers of smoked trout, a dollop of crab leg meat and mayo. “That’s [Read More]
Remember When Amtrak Let a Bunch of Writers Ride Free?
Wouldn’t it be great if lots of government orgs did that, too? US Postal Service “1 pm. Lunch over we set out to cover the southwest corner of the 90803, a route no carrier enjoys due to its paucity of shade trees and its plenty of hounds. My carrier quips that he spends his days in a haze of barks and yelps, and indeed, the barks and yelps do seem to follow us up and down the sunbaked blocks.” US Forest Service “3 pm and the fourth pot of coffee of the day. Before I agreed to accept this residency [Read More]
The Greatest Cat Tale Ever Told
My gabby landlord Jerry lived in the back house on the two-house lot we shared and he used to bend my ear for hours on end — all of it utterly forgettable except for the following tale. Jerry used to have an old tomcat that kept the local vermin population under control, or at least in a reliable state of unease. The cat spent most of its time sleeping under the rose bushes up near the house I rented or in the sun on the deck of the hot tub back beside Jerry’s kitchen door. In between was Jerry’s beautiful [Read More]
Of Dogs and Donuts
I utter to myself, “Your soul is Rome but your hopes are Pompei.” Time has done to my face what the Internet has done to human decency. I descend the stairs noting that 100 years has made them the deepest conceivable brown. “It smells like an old trumpet case in here.” My reluctance has become the issue. No longer is the issue the powdered donuts I venture out to buy. Rather it is my reluctance. My reluctance to step out into the harsh, sallow light unique to this geography. Dust steeps in the humid air and the nearby highway moans [Read More]
The Sandwich
From: jmacallan@gmail.com To: jawalma@gmail.com Subject: RE: Sandwich That’s better. Don’t forget again! Your assistant? Must be nice. When do I get an assistant? I think if you’re the only competent one then worldfarer is in a world of hurt! (j/k) ILY -J From: jawalma@gmail.com To: jmacallan@gmail.com Subject: RE: Sandwich Oh, opps – ILY. Also: Yes, of course. East Africa was only part of the celebration, sweetie. Yeah, far. Gonna send EBeth on her first ever solo press check. The price for this honor is picking up my sandwich on the way back. I’ll probably have to buy her one, [Read More]
A Short Story About a Long Night
Jeebus, a couple weeks ago we went up to Monterey for a car race at Laguna Seca along with the brother-in-law and his two boys, 22 and 16, and the 22 year old decided he wanted to follow up his White Russian with a Long Island Iced Tea, and I looked at his dad, who looked back at me, and I said, “Jeebus, man, you need to learn some more cocktails, because now you’ve embarrassed me twice in front of the cocktail waitress,” and he looked back at me and smirked as if to say, “I have not even begun [Read More]
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