You wore my hat and laughed as 

 we walked home hand in hand.

LOVE AND PHILODENDRON BY PATRICK SEAMAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 83

It was a quick walk down to the little creek that ran through your father’s backyard. We would kick off our shoes and ball our socks into our pockets and feel which rocks were the slimiest and search for crayfish with our toes. I remember you wore my hat and laughed as we walked home hand in hand and I told you to keep it and you did.

Walking up to the fire I thought, well, everything’s gone.

A FIGHT AT THE FIRE  BY CHRISTOPHER HEFFERNAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 83

Fire trucks were lined up on the street. Parked this way. Parked the other way. A whole bunch. Maybe a dozen. No sirens or anything. The red and white lights whirling around on the brick.  A bunch of firemen were on the roof where a plume of smoke billowed out from a hole as though the whole building was a chimney. Someone would yell up a ladder or yell down from the roof. A loud whistle, a hand gesture. Radios crackled. Some windows on the top floor were broken and the flames reached for the night sky. Walking up to the fire I thought, well, everything’s gone.