| Fiction | 21 Sep 2008 |
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| The River Road, Part Two by Rustin Larson | Comment (0) |
THE RIVER ROAD
Part 2 of 8
Lenny and Elmo
Mr. Carberry had been a well-liked man. He was small, but bore a resemblance to the president, Franklin Roosevelt, and he would make farmers gathered at the grain elevator or barbershop laugh at his imitation of FDR.
"Gentlemen," he would say, balancing his glasses on the tip of his nose, "I want to talk to you this evening about
| Fiction | 16 Sep 2008 |
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| The River Road, Part One by Rustin Larson | Comment (0) |
Part 1 of 8
Lola and Charlene
The cannon was on a limestone bluff that surveyed the moonlit river. Her daddy had told her it would be fired occasionally to scare the Indians, but she could not imagine why, thinking of the shy family, the Sunfish, who had their tar-papered cabin in the depths of the Stevich woods and who silently fished the banks of the Little Cedar for a significant
| Fiction | 10 Jun 2008 |
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| The Yellow Impala by Rustin Larson | Comment (4) |
I keep seeing my father drive around town in a yellow 1975 Chevrolet Impala. This is fine as far as most people (who don’t know my father) are concerned—it’s just that my brothers and I buried dad in November, 2001. For several very practical reasons, dad should be quietly resting in the cemetery and not tooling around town.
I often catch sight of him when I’m driving one of the
