By Brad Rose Whatever became of Little Leo? Last time I saw him, he looked like a death certificate before the ink dries. You remember his little bullet eyes? He’d draw a bead on you, and like a breezy skeleton, you’d feel empty as a two-way mirror on a one-way street. That little smile of … Continue reading Little Leo
By Brad Rose My clothes are exhausted. I’d like to throw myself out. I don’t need a second opinion. All those buildings in town, under so much pressure – wind, sandstorms, earthquakes. They lie to themselves about their strength. If the clouds moved any faster, the hawks wouldn’t stand a chance. And the fading trees—Willow, … Continue reading Flash Flood
By Brad Rose Tatiana says, “Good grammar is one of the most important qualities in a romantic partner.” I’m driving again. It’s only been two weeks since I got my license back. She’s tall and smart. You’d never guess she was that kid’s voice in the radio commercial. Overhead, the sky is blue as stonewashed … Continue reading Good Grammar is What Women Want
By Brad Rose With its windows rolled down, a lowrider passed, Sympathy for the Devil, belting out its introduction to Satan. Ramon turned to me, said, “Did you hear Vito was charged with unlawful flight to avoid prosecution?” I said, “We used to be partners, but we were never really close.” “For only one dead … Continue reading Without a Voltage Meter to Check How Hot a Fence Is, You’re Just Guessing
By Brad Rose Told Shanice that I don’t like to give myself any crazy ideas, so I focus on what’s important, what’s right in front of me. Just get the job done. Wednesday, when I pulled up to the bank, it was quiet as a fingerprint. As I entered, both tellers smiled at me, as … Continue reading Escape Tunnel
By Brad Rose I sleep with the secret policeman’s wife. Thursdays. Her soft skin, her violet eyes, an exquisite crime. I don’t think she much likes me, but she hates him more. ‘Momento mori’ means remember that you have to die. I am a peaceful man, but I have a weakness for beauty, for hazard. … Continue reading Joie de Vivre
By Brad Rose Out here, you get more stucco for your money. I’m on autopilot, the steering wheel barely necessary. You don’t need a telescope to discover the bad planets, although a thing must be lost before it’s found. Somewhere in my head, I’m swimming away from a blue boat, a warm, salt wind blowing … Continue reading Suburban Evening Commute
By Brad Rose Immediately following our blind date, Kandi and I were married. She had eyes like laser pointers; she admired my bullet points. I was born an orphan. Kandi’s parents had disowned her at birth. It seemed a marriage made in heaven. We honeymooned in Vegas, a city renowned for rapid marriages and instantaneous … Continue reading Blind Date
By Brad Rose Gravity is neither human nor animal, so close to the ground, it frightens the trees. Those clouds, lawless, out of control, like school children who aced the test. I slacken now, into sleep’s box canyon. It’s fun at first, but its theme is damnation. Even if you give it the benefit of … Continue reading Your Secret is Safe with Me
By Brad Rose Counting backward in dog years, I fell asleep during my trial. I dreamed I saw the ocean for the first time. The sea’s blue voice opened the sky’s solemn jaw, while the waves’ tingling excitement curled toward the beige sand. Monied sunbathers faced the water as if it were a god or … Continue reading Swimming in Money
