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"The living haunt the dead . . ." These sixteen genre-bending stories are set against a backdrop of sudden violence and profound regret, populated by characters whose circumstances and longings drive them to the point of no return . . . and sometimes even further. A young girl takes a journey to see what is really hidden within the belly of an ancient water tower. A high school senior learns about defiance on a school bus and witnesses a tragedy that he won't soon forget. Six survivors in an underground bunker discuss the possibility of Armageddon being an elaborate hoax. Two brothers take a walk on the dark side of the wheat field and discover that some bonds are stronger than death. And in the title story, a former train conductor must confront the ghosts of his past while learning that it's not the dead who haunt the living, but the other way around.
Traversing the back roads of the south and beyond, these stories probe the boundaries of imagination, taking the reader to the fringes of a society where the world looks different, and once you visit, you won't ever be the same.
265 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 1, 2012
Maybe take art classes. That's what he's always loved, seeing something and making it come alive on paper. There are angles and shadows he sees all the time that he frames inside his head and wants to get down on paper just right, but he's usually with Truck who scoffs at art, or if he's not with Truck he's laid up in the bed trying to sleep off one of Truck's marathon benders he'd been foolish enough to participate in. Seems stupid, really. The one thing that gives him joy, the one thing he loves to do, he mostly just remembers doing a long time ago.
Like everybody he knows, he wants to get out of this town and start his life all over again. That was the thing he thought about more than anything else when he had been landscaping, mowing or pulling weeds or blowing leaves across somebody's lawn. He would imagine himself in a new place away from Mom's ratty old trailer, away from Truck and Chet and the ex-girlfriends that broke his heart, not because he'd loved them, but because he'd loved them young and now he sees them fat and lethargic, toting around toddlers with dirty faces and shit-heavy diapers, left alone by husbands who in one way or another had learned to abandon everything—including the boys they once were—as a matter of principle.
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