Cleaver Magazine just published my short story (with a long title) “The Long Green Stretch, The Tall Trees, The Clouds Shaped Like Stars.” I wrote this one about a year and a half ago, then just never did anything with it for about a year. I’m very grateful to Karen Rile, the magazine’s editor, for helping me through a few edits here and there.
As a taste, here’s the opening paragraph:
I’m not supposed to get calls after nine, but when the phone rang, my old man didn’t stop me from answering. He’d already removed his leg for the night—it stood upright on the cushion next to him—so he just stayed there and stared me down with these death eyes, these ass-kicker eyes, as if I’d planned the whole thing to interrupt his lame TV show, and he grunted while I walked over to the cordless and slunk into the kitchen.
You can read the rest, along with some other fantastic fiction and poetry, at Cleaver‘s website.
Benjamin Woodard 