Stories

Help Needed (the un-malicious “why”)
True Tales / TYTT Export
28 May 2012

Help Needed (the un-malicious “why”)

By Rachel Kimbrough ...He inched forward, wagging the walking stick in front of him, his outstretched palm and stick contacting the edge of the pavilion simultaneously. He walked around the structure instead of crashing into it. The woman recognized the achievement with applause. They bonked around that way for a minute or so, turned the corner. I, mesmerized, snapped out of it only when the fellow in the truck behind me honked angrily ...

The New Kid
True Tales / TYTT Export
30 Apr 2012

The New Kid

By David Orr "...The ball flew over my head, and I ducked under the rope and ran as fast as I could past the hopscotch girls to chase it. The ball landed near the jump ropes and a circle of more girls playing jacks on the far side of the playground. Just as I picked up the ball, there was Sister! ..."

The Santa Fe Springs Ice Cream War
True Tales / TYTT Export
19 Feb 2012

The Santa Fe Springs Ice Cream War

By Sam Quinones

"... With my jingle going loud, I didn't hear him come up. "Hey, you!” Next to me was another ice cream truck. Sitting in the springy driver's seat, which was begging for mercy, sat an enormous squat white man, with a cap, a mustache and a scraggly beard. His belly-button peeked out from beneath a faded blue t-shirt. ... `This is my town. I'm going to dust your ass of the road.'..." He roared off. As I watched him go, I said to myself, `There goes Big Al.’

The Ballet And NASCAR
True Tales / TYTT Export
16 Jan 2012

The Ballet And NASCAR

By Anthony L. Quinones

"... The lights went down and the curtain started to open. Then the announcer came over the sound system. Due to having performed for underprivileged children of Washington D.C. earlier in the day, he said, Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gelsey Kirkland will not perform tonight’s ballet. Instead, they will be replaced by their understudies -- a Mr. Bujones and a Ms. Van Hamel. The audience went wild. A man two rows in front of our group stood up and shook his fist. The Japanese ambassador, who was sitting in the presidential box, walked out in protest, with his entourage in tow. ..."

Killing Donald Evans
True Tales / TYTT Export
28 Nov 2011

Killing Donald Evans

By Richard Gatica

"...The day before I killed Donald Evans I did not even know he existed. The day he died I was smoking crack cocaine and when I smoke crack, nothing else matters. Not family, not friends – not even God. ... At the time, I was out of money and robbing drug dealers on the streets of Los Angeles. ..."

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True Tales / TYTT Export
21 Nov 2011

From My Father’s Log

By David Lee Caudill

"...I never got to hunt with my father. As far back as I can remember I would watch my father, along with his brothers and their father, come home from a hunting trip. They would show off their deer, explaining every detail that led to the kill. Then they would describe how the deer feel, how far he had run after the shot. I was never there for the fall, the shot, the first step into the woods before the sun sparkled on the frostbitten fields of tall grass and dormant wheat. But I was always there when they came home. ..."

American Flashlight
True Tales / TYTT Export
14 Nov 2011

American Flashlight

By Frank Deese

"...Karen seemed to get what Min Thant meant while I stood nearby distracted by the round alluring eyes of Phoebe Cates, wondering what could possibly merit her poster being the only decoration on the bare walls of this dirt-floored Burmese home. Phoebe Cates was certainly pretty and spank-worthy enough for Judge Reinhold in “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” – but why would Min’s family worship her like a foreign goddess? ..."

Black
True Tales / TYTT Export
31 Oct 2011

Black

By Matthew Loflin Davis

After getting back from Thailand without my score, I wound up on the streets of Ann Arbor -- the homeless shelter on Huron to be exact. I had built up a sizable habit in Asia and now was sweating it out cold turkey in bunk beds with a bunch of other junkies, drunks and thieves who swept through the room at night going through the pockets of the destitute, and pretending to be friends in the day. ...

Sa lu bri ous
Feature Section 3 / True Tales / TYTT Export
26 Sep 2011

Sa lu bri ous

By Helen Weatherell-Bay "... As I was shaking my head, I could hear a strange “tweeting” sound. This sound was meant to notify the blind to let them know it was safe to go to the other side of the street. I knew this because it was posted on the crosswalks. I could have used just that kind of warning that day, if not my entire life. ..."

True Tales / TYTT Export
05 Sep 2011

Hit Then Run

"... One afternoon my front doorbell rings. I peek down from the roof terrace. A Mexico City police cruiser is parked in front of my door. Two officers in brown uniforms and caps stand on the sidewalk. “Don Gerald Hadden?” ...

Rainbow Popsicles
True Tales / TYTT Export
15 Aug 2011

Rainbow Popsicles

By Cynthia Butler

"...Laurie and I had been friends since the moment she looked up at me on that first day of kindergarten and asked, “Are you really five?” Her brother got married when Laurie was six years old and her sister got pregnant and moved out of their parents’ house shortly after that. Laurie became kind of an only child. Her mother once warned her that she had better skip adolescence. ..."

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True Tales / TYTT Export
27 Jun 2011

Sleeping With Grandma

By Kristi DeMeester

"...I gave up sleeping in the same bed as my grandmother after the first night she moved into my bedroom. That first night, I stretched my body along the corner of the sagging mattress, my calf muscles cramping; the thin quilt tucked tightly beneath me so that her sagging, yellowed skin would not touch mine. "It’s just until she gets back on her feet. It’s not easy being evicted,” my mother said. ..."

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Feature Section 3 / Uncategorized
12 Apr 2011

It Was A Sunday

By Richard Zamora

"...He was yelling at my brother. He stood six feet tall, with a husky physique and stomped when he walked. Screaming was normal for him, a trait he and my grandmother shared, and he was my father. ..."

Smashing Plates
Uncategorized
29 Jan 2011

Smashing Plates

By Rachel Kimbrough

"...I gripped the scaffolding with one hand and had the other arm wrapped under one of her armpits, her face unfortunately forced against my bosom. She started laughing about that, scatterbrained at the height of terror, and kicked her feet to try to find the scaffolding. I don’t think she realized she was now dangling just outside the scaffolding, or she would have panicked and fallen. ..."

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