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Fly breeding was a public nuisance and a menace to health. The object was to make the city a flyless city, to obliterate the unstopping buzz.
The man took a beer from the cooler, his third in half an hour, picked up the rod and reel, and walked toward the pier.
I guess Josie and I give off a trustworthy vibe, because he said, in a low, just-between-us voice, “I’m with the League.”
How many times has he gone to the Ramrod and stood alone in the corner, nursing a club soda or, sometimes, if he was feeling adventurous, a beer?
When I moved out six months ago, just a few weeks before the wedding I’d had to call off, I didn’t really care whether I had a car.
Soon she’d climb onto the pier and make her way to the trailer. Part of him wanted to stay and wait for her like before, but he knew he wouldn’t.
When she found the old house lit up night after night, and someone moving in the light with such a different life than her own, it never occurred to her that she should not stay a bit, catch her breath is all.
We signaled to each other with candles, this brief joy at catching the blurred, lit shapes of other people’s faces over the rubble.
Department of Creative Writing | University of North Carolina Wilmington 601 S. College Road | Wilmington, NC 28403