Category: Yo Ivanhoe

I’m not going to lie to you: I lie to you all the time. Seriously, all the time. There’s absolutely no me here. Whoever or whatever Brad Zellar is, it isn’t this. I have never, for instance, owned either a Plymouth Duster or a Scamp, let alone done any of the things I might have…

Tumult, by God. I saw a burning angel, vogueing in the corn. Somewhere’s the key that fits. Something vague creaks and whispers in the night beneath the ice under which also a river shambles still. I wait for the day when these murmurs come to stay. The whole family was crazy as shithouse rats. They…

Right here where we’re standing used to be a proper god-damned street before those sons of bitches down in the state capital decided to run the interstate highway through the godforsaken middle of nowhere forty miles south of here. Used to be if you wanted to drive across the country up this way you had…

Ruckert told the doctor that he felt as if he had been thrown from a boat. The doctor asked if he thought he had the strength to swim. “Strength is not an issue,” Ruckert said. “It’s a matter of desire. Where would I swim to? I can see no land in any direction.” Did he…

For several months I had been staring at the words written in a square on the otherwise blank calendar on my kitchen wall: Meeting Mr. Mercy. I had scheduled this meeting back in the late spring, and only after a series of mysterious phone calls and false starts. Most of the phone calls would come…

First I worked in this place in the Food Court that sold French fries and pretzels, for this Vietnamese guy who called himself Jose. Then I moved down another floor and worked at this place that sold nothing but total shit –no vision, none whatsoever: Rattling plastic frogs that croaked and paddled about in a…