Comments Posted By Chris Clow

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Aiden was the All American kid in high school. I say that with no sense of irony.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 11.08.2013 @ 3:15 pm


It’s maddening how restraining the situation is. Not just the cast, the way it wraps around the leg and drags out every itch and bad odor that part of the body can produce, but the whole deal.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 11.07.2013 @ 4:16 pm


My first tour in Europe was in England. We were the first wave of Americans, and we built bases for the Army Air Corps, paved landing strips in what used to be a farmers field.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 11.06.2013 @ 3:20 pm


He took us into the night, and we trusted him. He was smart, clever, and cunning, and he knew where the traps and pitfalls were that blocked our path. We gave him everything we had, our meager fortunes, our trust, our dreams. We forgot one thing, Coyotes are scavengers, they prey on dead things.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 11.05.2013 @ 3:04 pm


I hate going home. I drive for hours with sun slowly dying at my back, occasional glimmers shooting into the mirrors, slashing at my vision.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 11.04.2013 @ 4:37 pm


The piano crashed down the stairs, making the most beautiful music she had ever heard for just a moment before scattering ebony and ivory teeth across the stairwell floor.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 09.23.2013 @ 10:33 pm


We create our own hell. We are the architects of our most painful suffering. The devil’s a myth, a mirage with cloven hooves and a forked tail, frightful to behold, but ultimately, an illusion concealing the much harsher truth.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 09.23.2013 @ 12:41 am


To put something back together is a difficult feat. It’s much easier to dash the world to the four winds, damn the consequences. Someone else will deal with them.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 09.11.2013 @ 11:51 pm


It was no time for fear, no time to shrink away from what must be done. As he stepped into the pass, he cringed for a moment at the anticipation of the crushing pain that awaited him.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 09.10.2013 @ 3:22 pm


“I didn’t mean to!” he said. The thought echoed through his mind, repeating ad nauseum as it ricocheted off the walls of his mind.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 07.03.2013 @ 10:59 pm


For as long as they could remember, they chased the sun. They followed its rise and fall, forever seeking its warmth, its light, its ephemeral power.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 07.01.2013 @ 2:30 pm


There’s a reason why they don’t want you shining lasers at low flying aircraft, especially helicopters. The light diffuses from the glass and spreads to fill the cockpit, burning the pilot’s retina.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 06.30.2013 @ 8:44 pm


She was gone. She’d be back eventually, which was the best word he could think of to describe the terminus of her three month trip, but until then, he was left with nothing but an empty bed and a mind full of questions and clocks counting down towards “eventually.”

» Posted By Chris Clow On 06.21.2013 @ 1:32 pm


You always work in pairs. You dig your foxhole together. You pair off watches, one guarding the other while he sleeps, and then the favor is returned.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 06.17.2013 @ 2:17 pm


We pulled up into Qwalia too late to do anything more than survey the devastation. I’d never seen anything like it. The Madhi Militia had rolled through the town, and brought with them fury, hate, and desolation.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 06.13.2013 @ 3:45 pm


The protest had been swept aside. Blood scabbed over in the gutters, and the air was thick with smell of chaos, the metallic tinge of cordite, the burning scent of tear gas, and the omnipresent rank of fear.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 06.11.2013 @ 4:38 pm


“Keep your head up when you tackle!” he shouted. If there was one point he tried to drive home, it was for the kids to keep their head up when they tackled.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 06.10.2013 @ 2:21 pm


Why do I keep coming back? I’m the oldest guy here, and even I’ll admit that it’s a little creepy for a thirty-five year old to be bouncing on the dance floor next to the high-school candy kids with fake IDs. The answer is in the first song of the night.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 06.08.2013 @ 9:41 am


You can always get a feel for the guys who will snap under pressure. They’re just a little bit… “off,” you know? We had one of those.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 06.04.2013 @ 3:59 pm


There were so many things that the kids at school talked about that he didn’t understand. They seemed so… limited. Their homes were constant, unchanging, unyielding things.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 06.03.2013 @ 9:58 pm


There were thousands of tests, and more doctors than they could keep straight. The accents made it difficult. They never knew so many fertility specialists came from India and China.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 05.31.2013 @ 3:15 pm


He never felt more alone than he did in the city. A crushing wave of millions of uncaring human beings. Even in the heart of the mob the loneliness was, at times, excruciating.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 05.30.2013 @ 8:58 pm


If you wait until sunset, you can see them, a veritable parade of the city’s dispossesed and damned, a cavalcade of misfortune and metal disorders. with all their possessions bundled in their arms. They find salvation, for the night, at least, under the electric glow of the neon cross.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 05.29.2013 @ 6:27 pm


As always, they talked around the issues. They fought with fangs and claws exposed over the little things, but they tiptoed past the big issues.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 05.28.2013 @ 2:22 pm


Travel from stack to stack, from book to book; skim the sum of human knowledge. Eventually. after closer examination, you might find what you were looking for. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll learn what you need to know.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 05.27.2013 @ 11:56 pm


There are things that can be broken that can never be repaired, never adequately replaced. There are things that once they have been broken, they are simply gone, and even though you try to find something else to take it’s place, it’s never the same shape, the same color, the same thing.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 05.26.2013 @ 4:31 pm


The Dragon Lady didn’t handle like the planes he was used to. It was slow, unwieldy, and it was an absolute nightmare to land.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 05.24.2013 @ 6:09 pm


He’d only seen fishing on TV before. The pole, which seemed like a twig in the hands of the actors, was like a tree trunk in his eight year old hands.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 05.21.2013 @ 3:41 pm


Jerry had just finished watching a movie about laying siege to castles and knights and swords. The kind of movie with blood and violence and dragons in it.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 05.20.2013 @ 2:12 pm


My father’s last few months were spent in hospice care, where he’d stay in bed all day except for the brief period that they moved him to give him a bath and change the sheets. I don’t know how conscious he was of the whole process at that point.

» Posted By Chris Clow On 05.19.2013 @ 4:30 pm

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