It’s a New Year and with it a score of New Chances to (b)reach the 25th-a-month deadline for the monthly Truckin’ e-zine issue, for each and every one of us. I actually have a New Year Resolution about Trucin’ which is to write more, and let more spills run that way.
At the bottom you’ll find the new stores, if you click Literature in the category view on the left you’ll see all of the issues going back a few years, except for those I forgot, like December 2008. If you need to see those, click the banner below. If you only want to read my submissions, none of which are very recent, please go to my archives and scroll to the bottom. In any case, support your local Truckers office and spread the word around. Pauly writes:
Welcome back to the first issue of 2009. It’s hard to believe that Truckin’ began in 2002 and we’ve come a long way since then. This issue features five stories which includes the debut of Andrew Moxon. The always venerable Joe Speaker returns with a zesty piece titled The Orchard. Sean Donahue is back after a short absence and David Peterson makes a splash in his second consecutive issue. And of course, I share a tale that has been told many times before involving Las Vegas working girls.
Truckin’ needs your help with a tinge of grassroots promotion. Please tell your friends about your favorite Truckin’ stories. The writers definitely appreciate your support, as do I. Spread the word on your blogs and whatever social networking sites you are currently addicted to.
The Mollification the Foul Temptresses by Paul McGuire
The hookers at the Rio were a combination of famished vultures and parched vampires ready to pick apart any carcass. Any john. Any drunk. Anybody in their path. They were evil personified….
The Orchard by Joe Speaker
I reach for her hand, probing, touching it delicately. We don’t form a fist when we come together, nothing like the taut intertwine of fingers you see lovers form, those Gordian knots, unwieldy like a stone fortress. Our fingers hang off each other’s loosely, three of mine, two of hers, vice-versa, and they dangle. Spider webs in the wind. Tenuous connection…
Hector by David Peterson
I remember clearly when the cops came and took Hector’s mom away. He seemed rather nonplussed by the whole thing as we stood on the curb watching a bedraggled and wild-eyed woman being escorted from her home in cut-off jeans, a loose-fitting white tank top and handcuffs…
Flight #22 to Denial by Sean A. Donahue
Her eyes were black as the night. Her black hair cascaded near her high cheekbones and tanned complexion. Her body wasn’t made for sin but for pleasure, and the glasses she wore on her head framed her face perfectly. The only thing that didn’t make sense was that it was raining over her head…
Running it Twice by Andrew Moxon
There are, however, certain points of opportunity. Soft places in time, when the cockpit door comes open and we second-timers can take over. That’s when things can change. Sometimes, every so often, we walk through that door and start flipping the switches…