Tag Archives: R. E. Hengsterman

Clean Meat

“What do we do with it?” “Fuck if I know,” someone hollered. The growing disturbance had pulled a small gathering into the street. “It’s mocking us,” Tink Bayman said, as it lifted its head skyward, mouth ajar. It had a … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction | Tagged | Leave a comment

Direct TV

I’m motionless. A corpulent middle-aged statue. A ceremonial prop. Caramel-speckled autumn leaves skitter amongst my feet, palmately lobed, withered and crackling. Sugar maple (Acer saccharum), veined bare, broad, and flat. Dozens and dozens of whirling dervishes chase each other around … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction | Tagged | Leave a comment