Our neighbors got foreclosed, and the bank never came by, and so we watched the house falling down. Weeds growing up. It looked like one of them barns out in the country where it’s all still standing but only just, and you can imagine bats and raccoons and whatever, and I asked Will if he wanted to go over there and mow on account of the aesthetics and all, but there wasn’t nothing in it. No compensation. Property values were good and tanked, and to tell you the truth, I agreed with him, and one night we broke in there. It smelled like dog food. No different than outside, I guess, when the wind is right and the Purina plant’s firing, and we got a blanket and a battery-powered radio and listened to the Cincinnati Reds, and that Great American Ballpark was full of fucking echoes, man. It sounded like our beer cans. At night. Rolling across some bullshit laminate floor.
BRETT BIEBEL — Brett teaches writing and literature at Augustana College in Rock Island, IL. His (mostly very) short fiction has appeared in Hobart, SmokeLong Quarterly, The Masters Review, Wigleaf, and elsewhere. Stories from this collection have also been chosen for Best Small Fictions and as part of Wigleaf’s annual Top 50 Very Short Stories. 48 Blitz, his debut story collection, is available from Split/Lip Press.
Art by KATIE CONRAD — Katie is an LA based illustrator. By day she creates art for graphic tees, by night she enjoys drawing anything with a narrative (book covers, character sketches, board game art, etc). When not doing art, she mostly watches bad horror movies and is occasionally talked into watching an actually good one. Her portfolio can be viewed at kconrad.myportfolio.com. As for social media, you can find her at instagram.com/see_katie_c, but be prepared for a lot of insufferable cat pics.