It Was Always the Same Day
by Nate Pritts
Issue No. 210 ~ November, 2014
There was something in the intersection of the two streets, the low slung traffic light, which seemed to all come together.
There was something in the intersection of the two streets, the low slung traffic light, which seemed to all come together.
Bryan is so stylish, she notices right away—his corduroy blazer, his white linen shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest, which Bee should find tacky but she doesn’t. His jaw is narrow, his Adam’s apple pronounced, and his hair, black and curled, uncoils lazily over his head.
The man has the money out, his hand extended uncertainly. The bill is crumpled and dirty, the green ink almost black. The quarter, in contrast, gleams from frequent rubbing. Eve reaches for the money, but Matt steps forward and bats the man's hand away.
When the fighting began in the city below, the rich escaped our hotel. Private helicopters swooped in, leaving those without power or money to be captured by the rebel forces.