Brian Eckert
Writer. Wanderer. Dreamer. Skeptic. Man.
May 21, 2018
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May 16, 2018
Standing Arrow Straight
Steve woke up with a problem: he had a hard-on.
He slung his weight to the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor. A picture of his wife on the bedside table was eye-level with his hard-on. He turned the picture around.
Steve fixed his usual breakfast of oatmeal, scrambled eggs, and coffee. The hard-on faded.
Drinking a second cup of coffee he collected the paper from the front porch.
Kids walked to the bus stop, dragging their feet and wearing oversized backpacks. Cars pulled out of driveways, exhaust pouring from mufflers in the morning air. Birds were busy gleaning trees and gathering sticks for nests. Steve observed the morning bustle while his coffee grew cold.
He warmed it in the microwave. The beeping light on the phone indicated a message. Steve hoped it was one of the kids. But it was a salesperson, offering him an exclusive offer on car insurance. He called the number back. The woman on the other end had a southern accent that Steve liked. He listened to her pitch, but regretted to inform her that he currently had a better rate.
April 26, 2018
The Hunting Cabin
Day One: The Voice in the Box
Richard entered the code on the electronic lock pad. The pad made a series of beeps and the door unlocked.
Richard opened the door and stepped into the cabin that was to be his home for the long weekend.
He flipped on the light and saw an entryway constructed of light-colored wood with cubbies built into the wall. He saw a picture that said, “Teach a man to fish and he’ll spend all day playing with his jig.” There was also a picture of a black Labrador with a duck in its mouth and a taxidermied pheasant mounted on a board.
Richard went upstairs. On the next floor was the kitchen, living room, and bedrooms. Above the fireplace was a series of mounted animal heads — deer, mountain goat, pronghorn, gemsbok.
Richard felt somewhat out of place, as he was not a sportsman. He did not hunt or fish. He could not field dress a wild boar. But he was also not willing to splurge for a “luxury cabin,” so he had chosen the “sportsman” on the rental website. Staring at this barbaric décor was bearable, he supposed, at a savings of $250 per night. If it became too much, he could always burn the goddamned things in the fireplace.
