Prose from Keith Hoerner

Upon Meeting a Boy on the Street, While Carrying the Cremated Remains of My Alice
 

The kid says it, and the bell can’t be unrung, “Your wife’s nothing but a pile of dirt, now.” Was it just the uncorrupted, clear-eyed innocence of a child, or did he mean to be cruel? And could a child, a boy of about eight or nine years old, be so insidious? I try to adjust my thinking, flip the switch from darkness to light, but the old filaments

in my mind snap; glass shatters; synapses misfire. I grab his neck with my right hand, squeeze the small cardboard box with my left and make him—eat—his—words. 



Balancing On the Sharp Edges of Crescent Moons

 

I have a bipolar friend who—now in our late 50s—texts me: “Who am I?”


How do I respond; do I respond?

I tell her she is a dear old friend, a beautiful, talented, and intelligent woman. When in fact, I feel like she is *past tense.* I AM her friend. WAS her friend. She is all but lost to me now. Even herself. 

This is the nature of disease. The dis—ease straddles our world and the next, leaving her to blindly balance on the sharp edges of crescent moons: offering no rounded, no soft places to fall.


 Swimming Through Shadowlands


Deep below the lake’s surface, there sits—intact—a house. A two-story structure of Carpenter Gothic details like elaborate wooden trim bloated to bursting. Its front yard: purple loosestrife. Its inhabitants: alligator gar, bull trout, and pupfish. All glide past languidly: out of window sashes and back inside door frames. It is serene, and it is foreboding. Curtains of algae float gossamer to and fro. Family pictures rest clustered atop credenzas. A chandelier is lit, intermittently, by freshwater electric eels. And near a Victrola, white to the bone, a man and a woman waltz in a floating embrace.



Keith Hoerner (BS, MFA) lives, teaches, and pushes words around in Southern Illinois, USA. Published in over 100 literary journals / anthologies (across six of seven continents), he is founding editor of the Webby Award recognized Dribble Drabble Review, as well as a Best Book and American Writing Finalist.