Blue Paints

By James Hoggard Perkins-Prothro Distinguished Professor of English at Midwestern State University in Wichita Falls, TX. Hoggard is also a former poet laureate of Texas and past president of the Texas Institute of Letters. Prologue I’d ridden in the Hotter’n Hell Hundred since its beginning, some four or so years back; and I often rode alone. Later,…

Fossils

by Elizabeth Langton Photographs by Danny Fulgencio Jack Loftin guides his hulking sedan west through town while I sit in the passenger seat, clutching a tote bag packed with a notebook, tape recorder, camera, pens, water bottle and sunscreen. A cooler containing our lunch—ham on white, assembled by Jack’s wife—rests in the backseat. A pickax…

The Wind is Changing

by: Annette Nevins   Like lines on an old woman’s face, long deep crevices split the splotched wood that frames the tiny tan and white house, its two front windows watching over West Cherry Street as it has for more than half a century. Lace curtains that once fluttered in the Texas breeze are gone,…

One Last Ride

by Michael Mooney Chris Aultman’s Dodge Ram fishtails out of the American Legion parking lot, slapping a white wave of rocks through the air. In the truck our knees jam together. Four across in the back. Three in the front. Within minutes we’re on the back roads. It’s a purple night. A soft trail of…

And the Dust Remains the Same

by Sarah Wyman  The noose hangs above the trap door, faded and frayed. This hank of looped rope was justice in the Old West for horse thievery or cattle rustling and a litany of other crimes neatly written up in the leather-bound charge book for this defunct jailhouse. I’m on the third floor of the…