K. Marvin Bruce

  The first night in his new house was sleepless.   Terah built up the fire a little.   Wendy had called him on the dorm phone, shared by all twelve of them in the hall.   “It’s over, Terah.” She said simply. “But why?   Is it something I did?” “No.   It’s not you.   It’s me.   There’s someone else.” “Gary.” “Yes.   It was Gary all along, but I didn’t have the heart to tell you.   I really like you, Terah.   I didn’t want to hurt you.   Good-bye.” The dark seemed alive.   That wasn’t the end of the Wendy affair, but he wondered if it was why he’d managed not to really fall in love again.   Until now.   He had to be honest with himself.   He was smitten with Lindsey.   As a grown man, he knew it was silly.   He’d had crushes before—as an adjunct professor he couldn’t help but notice the many stunning coeds in the classroom.   Danielle hadn’t been stunning, but she was pretty.   And she had...

  The gathering was the bastard child of a townhall and a party.   There was no drinking, but a strange joy pervaded having nothing and discussing everything.   When talk died out, singing began.   These people had a peace of mind Terah envied.   They were professionals discarded by society—each of them capable, but told there was no need for them.   They lived here without utilities, subsisting on pilfered food that wasn’t freshly made, and yet they celebrated.   He nevertheless wondered about the gorilla in the room, or rather, about the fire. The main business conducted centered on sending a party of two to get supplies and how to keep the wood stores replenished.   Missionary parties were sent out in twos to get food.   The nearest town was a three-hour walk, and it had a food pantry that was always the first stop.   There was a super Walmart there as well, which had driven other area stores out of business.   The giant chain ha...