Rick was having a hard time remembering how he'd gotten here. Sitting on one side of a square table, across from him the current Mayor, camera lights glaring, engaged in a debate in the Mayoral contest of this town he still planned to move from in a few weeks.

When the primary election returns were counted and it was reported that Rick had won the Democratic nomination handily, Rick had thought it was a joke. He hadn't run, of course...read more

"Don't you think it's time we talked, about what's going on." Fled spoke as he and Rick jogged the neighborhood streets. It was early, before work, the sky a pale blue.

But it was loud. Landscapers with power mowers and blowers and trimmers were working the lawns as Rick and Fled ran by.

Rick said, "What?"

Fled shouted. "Things seem off . . . with you."

Rick mouthed silently the the words, "can't . . . hear . . . you."

Fled cupped his hands over his over his mouth. "I just want you to know. I'm here and so is Rita."

Rick nodded. He couldn't hear a ...read more

Rick stood on his driveway watching his neighbor, Fled, slide a leaf blower onto his back, knapsack style. Fled waved at Rick.

Rick said, "what are you doing?"

Fled said, "blowing."

"There are no leaves on the grass," Rick said.

"I know," Fled said.

It was 9:30 p.m. on Wednesday. Rick was out to pick up the pile of newspapers on his driveway. Another neighbor had called him, telling him about the papers accumulating there. In case he didn't know, the neighbor had said.

Fled turned on the blower. It was loud, like an accelerating mid-sized Cessna. Fled paced his lawn, lush Bermuda grass, and waved the blower about. He waved at Rick, gave him the thumbs up sign. A stone lying on Fled's lawn shot across the grass, missile-like, and smacked into a car parked across the street....read more