The Promise of God
You shall have joy, or you shall have power, said God; you shall not have both.
It began to grow cold in the cabin after the sun
went down, and Nealy thought about building a fire. It would be a fine
fire, roaring and crackling and toasting warm. It would light the room
with a delicious dancing light, and he and Greta could beek on the outer
hearth. He loved the way that firelight played off Greta’s features,
making them red and soft and shiny; and he loved the way the smoky
smells of the burning wood blended with the earthy smells of Greta
herself. Yes, a fire was surely what was needed.
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In Panic Town, on the Backward Moon
Hot Dog sucked the nipple of his beer bottle. “He has something.”
“Something he values,” suggested Willy.
VJ chuckled. “That a man values something is no assurance that the thing is valuable. It might be a picture of his sainted grandmother.” But he didn’t think so, and neither did anyone else in the Dog.
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Thanks, good stories. I enjoyed reading them again.
ReplyDeleteYour "The Clapping Hand of God" is a good work underanthologized. Also, you left out one story from Captive Dreams that qualified in locale but not in tone. Let these two be in your next collection.
ReplyDelete-- Occasional Correspondent
I enjoyed both stories, but "The Promise of God" is one I think will be with me for a long time. Extremely nice work there.
ReplyDelete