A Short Story by Thomas Kearnes
Gregg sprawled across the hardwood floor like a lizard prone against the side of a child’s mesh-wire cage. Snores rumbled from his mouth. A fine film of moisture coated his skin. He could have been anywhere from his mid-thirties to almost fifty. His face was so puffy, so white and distended, it made any narrower estimate of his age impossible. His hair was curly. His eyes were closed. His boyfriend, Jack, reached down to pick up the cell phone flipped open in Gregg’s hand.
“Who was he trying to call now?” Leon asked.
Jack closed the phone and set it on the desk next to the laptop. “I don’t know.” He glanced at the screen and saw a photo of a naked man, his head cut off at the top of the frame. Jack glimpsed a few lines of the profile below the man’s image: I like to party, I like to play, can fuck all night, can cum all day. He wasn’t sure if he admired or pitied the literary effort the naked man had put into his ad.
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Tagged as:
Literature in the Media,
New Literature Online,
Short Story
Lately we’ve been thinking about freedom. We love the freedom to roam, the freedom to live life on our own terms, even though many things often interfere. Be it work or other obligations, we are regularly shackled by someone or something. Our soon-to-be-brother in law Erik Antonson agrees when we trumpet the freedom to live and work where we choose. Hell, he moved to Nosara, Costa Rica, and started a family and a successful business there. That’s the freedom we’re talking about. Some people aren’t so lucky, though. Oppression has a storied past in China. Odd, then, that that country’s literature is waving its liberated flag in Germany. Speaking of Germany, the Berlin Wall fell 20 years ago. Read more in Salon. Author Michael Greenberg is in Berlin, talking books at that city’s Literary Festival. African short story writers might not always enjoy the recognition they deserve. The 10th annual Caine Prize aims to put that to an end. Then, of course, there’s academic freedom, which is a slippery slope. Just ask former professor Ward Churchill. Or Kurt Vonnegut, whose mysterious mind was sent a-swirling by a certain Chicago-based anthropologist. – Kevin Murphy
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Tagged as:
Literature Contests,
Literature in the Media,
Wednesday's Writerly Happenings
