He was on fire. The grass in the yard was dying and the water spigot was rusting and John was asleep on the sofa. The last check came by mail three weeks before the third anniversary of the accident. Sam put the envelope in the front pocket of his work coveralls, the stiff, white corner of the check covering the red embroidered “s” of his name, turning it into something unfamiliar. Sam stood in the center of the tiny kitchen scuffing the rubber soles of his work boots against the chipped bro...

The north Texas winds are always meaner in the fall, bringing with them thoughts of tornadoes and the musk of the Mississippi. These winds rattle windows off farmhouse frames and spook cattle into believing in a fate worse than the slaughterhouse. These winds don’t care about man made dams or peeling farm stands; if they’re angry, they’ll bowl it all over and stretch it back to the dusty plain it used to be. It’s these winds that’ll wake a man in the middle of the night and force him outsi...