shot glass
nz shot glass
Issue # 2 September 2010
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Howie Good


Heart Trouble

He dialed 911. The war had just started. Bees fed on the
golden face of a sunflower in a city twelve-thousand miles
away. Pilots called them Flying Coffins.

His heart started going like an antiaircraft gun, a spy
caught leaving coded messages. Dusk seemed to fall by 2
p.m. Reporters interviewed mothers with dead children in
their arms. The wind from the heights acquired a touch of
red. Look out the window, the caller said, summer is over.

The purpose of catastrophe apartments eluded him. Taxis
ran on charcoal gas. He never requested a different ending
for the old people wrapped in rags.