Glimmer Train Stories 77 Author:Hasanthika Sirisena, Carrie Brown, Jessi Phillips, Rolf Yngve, Jackie Thomas-Kennedy, Evan Christopher Burton, Jon Chopan, Anne de Marcken, Josh Weil, J.P. Lacrampe, Aaron Carmichael, Bret Anthony Johnston, Travis Holland Literary short stories by established and emerging writers.Excerpts: Hasanthika SirisenaThird-Country NationalAnura's new home was a tent. It housed twelve other TCNs: four from Sri Lanka, three from Nepal, one from Nigeria, three from India, one from Bangladesh. Carrie BrownBombVera and Christy's mother were childhood chums. Their mothers had ... more »been friends before them, and there was some way in which Christy's mother had been indebted as a girl to Vera's family, something to do with money. Jessi PhillipsThe Klein Farm"We're going to lose the farm," he tells them. "If we don't make up some money fast." Rolf YngveGoing After His BrotherTheir dad had been on the township's first real planning commission and named these streets when they were nothing but stakes driven into farmland. Mississippi, Nakoma ÄîOrange, Peach; their dad said fruits and rivers never p_ed anybody off. Jackie Thomas-KennedyThe Bridge Is MovingIf he had been coming for me, he would have come two years ago, when I asked him to. He would have come with a bishop from a chessboard, because mine is missing one and we loved to play chess. He would have named his sailboat Grace instead of Lucky Penny. Evan Christopher BurtonExposureAhead beyond the tree-break lay the little borrowed house sitting dark walls against dark windows against dark sky. Jon ChopanThis Form of GrievingMy father moved into the old syrup factory on East Main Street with a futon and his photography equipment. Anne de MarckenBest WesternMy mom has left the bathroom light on so that I can see. I can tell she is awake, but I pretend that I have to be very quiet so that she will pretend to be asleep and not say anything to me. Josh WeilMalvern HillWhen I was ten, my father caught me playing Civil War in the backyard. I was either blue or gray, depending on if I began my charge from the side where the mulberry tree grew or from the sandbox. J.P. LacrampeFarmers' MarketBeside the bum are two Hefty garbage bags that, based on the smell, are filled with carrion and balsamic vinegar. When he catches me looking at him through the mirror, he smiles. What the hell, I smile back. Aaron CarmichaelDriver Yu's PenanceThe sight of so many pairs of high-heeled shoes stirred in him the hazy, drunken memory of a hair salon he had stumbled into late one night a year earlier. The salon cut hair during the day, but after dark the owner turned on pink lights that could be seen from the street and it doubled as a brothel. Bret Anthony JohnstonSoldier of FortuneIt was the year the president denied trading arms for hostages in Iran and the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded and Halley's Comet scorched through the sky. It was the year I loved a reckless girl, the year being around my best friend made me lonely. Travis HollandInterviewed by Jeremiah ChamberlinFor most of us, much of our lives pass away when we pass away. A writer is the person who has saved it. To me, writing a book or a short story is proof that this life is lived. Bret Anthony JohnstonInterviewed by Margo WilliamsI think that reading and writing are, at their core, acts of empathy. If we were more engaged and practiced in the habit of empathizing, there's no question that we'd be in a more compassionate place.« less