But for Chance

by Bob Strother I don’t typically give much thought to my high school days now that they’re several decades removed and interactions with former classmates all but vanished. A not-so-subtle reminder, though, arrived in this morning’s mail: my graduating class’s fifty-fifth reunion notice. I hold the unfolded papers in my hands—one sheet purple, the other… Read More But for Chance


by Trilby Plants   Hey, mister, whatcha doing? Whittlin. I can see that. What’re you whittling? Wood. Well, duh. No need to be snippy, Missy. Don’t judge me, mister, I’m having a terrible day. I walked a half a mile in these shoes. What are you making? A little figger. What? A bitty person. A… Read More LOST