End of the Road
Jacques Antoine, Jeanette Raleigh, Jess Mountifield, Alison Blake, Brandon Hale
Language: English
Pages: 296
ISBN: B00E6IUKAM
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Roads end. They begin somewhere, too. In between, all manner of things happen: friendship, betrayal, horror and maybe even joy. For some, the End of the Road brings love and happiness, for others agony and suffering, and for a precious few, sorrow may lead to something revelatory. The potholes and pitfalls found in this anthology are many, but for every character, there is an end of the road.
This road ends in a collection of short stories by 25 of the most gifted writers of our time. Intended for lovers of short fiction everywhere, the End of the Road is a must read for anyone intent on keeping current with the literary scene.
Contributing authors:
Brandon Hale
Robert Thomas
Saxon Andrew
James Rozoff
Anna J. McIntyre
Donna B. McNicol
Randall Morris
James Rozoff
Alison Blake
Jeanette Raleigh
L. S. Burton
Jess Mountifield
C. A. Newsome
J R C Salter
Michael Meyer
E. B. Boggs
David A. Cuban
Scott Langrel
John Daulton
Kathleen Steed
Chris Ward
Jacques Antoine
Suzie O'Connell
Thomas Jenner
Angeline Perkins
clouds in a harsh blue sky; the narrow barren boles of abandoned rubber tree plantations; the occasional water buffalo standing patiently by the road. They zoomed past orange earth stripped clean and levelled flat, waiting for development; temples with elegant roofs curving towards the sky, roof tiles blinding in the sunlight; billboards advertising herbal supplements and massage chairs. The shape of the green-furred mountains against the sky brought back an unpleasant memory – the first time
paper and they are let through with curious looks and the soldiers finger their weapons but say nothing. The next morning they run into a storm of locusts, the insects come flying out of nowhere in their millions. They grow like a dark cloud on the horizon and the horses shy and the men reach for their guns but they are useless. The insects swarm over them blindly, as if the men and the horses do not exist, are a figment of a locust god’s imagination. They enter their hair and their clothes and
reckon you’re going ter use that ole murderin piece on me, Dimpsey. An he holds out his hands an starts coming towards me some more. An at first I thought he might be right, cos all my ’memberins o those river days was stirrin still an I kep seein him as the laughin boy he’d bin an not this robber he’d become. An then suddenly I ’membered meself an my finger clutched tight on the gun’s trigger an there was a bang that seemed ter make the whoal world glitch. Loud as a splodey goin off it was, an
seat. Tug, check, adjust padding, close door. There was something obsessive, even crazed, about the way he worried about the TV. When he’d agreed to take us to Dindigul, he’d been really taking the damn TV to Dindigul. Mani got back in and started the engine. “Mani, I don’t think you take such good care of your child even,” I joked, again in Tamil. Mani half-turned his head, and I caught the gleam of a gap-toothed smile. “Sir, all this is to take care of my child only. From where did you learn
played an economist? If Gabriel the economist isn’t there, it means all the papers which cite your work aren’t there. Ditto for the economists who wrote those papers. Do you think Adam Smith would exist in that world? So how can your wife play an economist? The Butterfly Effect, have you seen it?” I waggled my hand. “Interesting point. But not necessarily. In an alternate world–” “Have you seen the movie?” “Butterfly Effect? No. Ashton Kutcher is in it, right?” “No. Some guy who looks just