Barry Brennessel

“You know,’ the woman said, ‘I’ve heard tell that there’s a speck of gold for every ten thousand bread crumbs on the planet. Do they say that, or did I make that up? I don’t know; anyway, you — and don’t let this go to your head — but you’re close to a speck, really, for coming to my aid.”

“He lunged for me, but stopped short of hitting me, instead taking hold of my arm and pulling me toward him. ‘If I ever see you again,’ he whispered, ‘I’ll finish what I started in there.’ He squeezed my arm harder, digging into me. ‘Maybe, for fun, I’ll just snap your neck in half.’ His pressed his lips to my ear. ‘And I’d better not find out you tried to contact Helena again, got it?”

“She turned. ‘I’m quite serious, you know. I plan to murder him tonight.’ She touched my leg again; my muscles tensed. ‘I’ve got it all worked out. It’s a simply delightful plan.’ She cocked her head. ‘No, let me rephrase that. Really, it’s more delightfully simple.”

“You’re a bastard,’ she whispered, her hands beginning to tremble as she scooped up one of the figurines. I could tell by the costume it was Pulcinella, his body split in half. The head completely shattered. ‘You’re a selfish bastard.”

“It’s amazing how much a frail old woman will confide in a visiting nurse.’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘Imagine pouring out your soul to someone stooped over a bedpan.’ She took another puff, and once more blew smoke at me. I took hold of her wrist.”

“I know we haven’t been formally introduced, Nathan,’ she said, ‘but I feel like I know practically everything about you.’ She picked up my spoon and scooped up a dab of fudge. ‘At least, all that a sickly old aunt is willing to share.’ She slid the spoon into her mouth, tipped her head back, and closed her eyes.”

“She could work any situation to her advantage, instantly turning herself into the life of the party, whether it was some soirée for an oil tycoon or a rally for the homeless.”

“She stood there, half lit by the street lamp, her diamond choker sparkling. A knot formed in my stomach, and I knew it wasn’t from the appetizers I’d eaten earlier that night. Then, in a haunting tone I still remember to this day, she whispered, ‘My dear, dear friend....Quo vadis?”

“Alicia, enough!’ We all froze. My dad had only invoked his Code Red Warning: You’ve Done It Now voice twice in my lifetime. The first was when Val was trying to feed me ‘magical pills’ from the medicine cabinet when I was four, and other was when my mom thought he was being too flirty with my aunt. ‘He’s twenty-fucking-two years old! If he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t want to go, okay?”

“Blood was the only trace of him. Fourteen drops along the sidewalk. Twelve in the street. Vincent counted them. Twice.”

“He's a drunken bum is what I'm talking about. And he might be a jailed one, too, if I report his hittin' me. Unless you want to add a little extra to the telephone money.”

“It rested flat on a surface. A cushion or a mattress. The toes curled up. Then another foot appeared, suspended in air until a leg extended. He started backward, repelled by whatever could twist and turn so freakishly.”

“On the heels of his words, the front window exploded. As if time slowed down, he watched the shards of glass scatter across the floor, luminous crystals dancing about the wooden slats of the floor like insects scurrying in choreographed retreat.”

“Somehow I can live in that awful building‟s shadows,” she said, “but I don‟t think I have the strength left to ever set foot in there again.”

“I’m not certain how we accomplished it, but roughly three and a quarter hours later, as the moon dipped to its lowest point in the night sky, we’d stopped the fire from consuming a sixth building. Men were still pouring buckets on the smoldering heap, and a few embers still glowed red-orange, but there wasn’t a dancing flame to be seen.”

“It was Lao Jian’s voice. He moved on too quick for our eyes to meet. For now, it was enough that I’d felt his breath, heard his voice, and saw his retreating form running toward the Trout Creek line.”

“I stood for a few moments, looking for the Little Dipper. ‘Howdy, Breandan,’ I whispered. ‘Look at me now. Can you believe my predicament?”

“The little plastic figure swung back and forth against Marco’s hip, as if trying to keep up with him. No — not keeping up. They were clearly in lockstep. A perfect team. One always knew where the other one was.”

“The Ondřej feeling swept over him. The very thing he tried to explain to Sheila over the phone from France. The feeling that drove him to fly to Japan. You fall too fast, Brian Caleb. Please don’t be a pathetic idiot again. You be careful. His logical side screamed at him as he walked over to Jason and helped him down from the examination table.”

“My Greek Chorus takes a break when I meet with Mrs. Castor. I’ve never told her about them, or the fact that I converse with my sister’s cat whenever I’m over there visiting. Probably a lot of things will remain a secret to Mrs. Castor. Some people might argue that going to see a counselor is a waste if I’m going to remain so guarded. But the appointments are only a ten dollar co-pay thanks to the university’s generous nature and, unlike my chorus and the cat, she answers back independent of my brain cells and challenges my ‘long held beliefs about the way people interact’. Or somethin”

“I am yours, too,” I whispered back, and those several minutes were the happiest in my life, eclipsing everything that came before and everything that has come after.”

“I always believed that for every good thing that happens in life, two tragedies rush in to kick your ass to keep you from getting all saccharine and deluded. It was as if just before you turned left into paradise, Ethel Merman popped up in your backseat and shouted, ‘Turn right, you idiot!”