“The husk of the house I torched still sits undisturbed by nose-held-high society or it’s perhaps a refuge for one or a few of them thousands of nouveau pauvres that slink through the alleys and parks of Our Fair Town. I like to think that these life-in-a-shopping-cart people are the only true Americans left; everyone else sits unthinking in front of their television and argues about which this-or-that happens to be pregnant, divorced, or in charge of the country.”– From “Firebug” by Jacob Ferrier
Thanks to Brian Hobbs for a great read !! I truly enjoy your skill of drawing me into your words!!
This psychological construct very much enjoyed “My Pal” by Brian Hobbs.
Loved the Radiohead piece by Brian Hobbs.
I’m glad to see Brian Hobbs writing again! Talent like his shouldn’t be kept locked up!
Snoek-Brown. ‘Period’. Good.
M
__________
Marie Marshall
author/poet/editor
Scotland
Marie, you are simply EVERYWHERE I look lately. And that’s a wonderful thing. Thanks, as always, for the kind comments! 🙂
I like the use of dialect in the Hobbs piece.
The descriptions used in The Prey was amazing. You felt like you were there.
I really liked the imagery of “My Pal”. As a little boy, I had visions of a walking “boom box” that spoke through song lyrics (kinda like Bumblebee from the Transformers movie), and this story took me back to that. Well done, Brian.
Enjoyed the short story “My Pal”. Created great verbal visions of the characters, especially that one old neighborhood guy that we all remember growing up with.
I loved “Period”. The dialogue opened the characters and showed the selfishness of the want of sex with the shame of realization when one realizes the driving imperative of the body has betrayed one’s own regard or consideration for another. Brilliant.
Dude, that’s some deep analysis! Thanks so much for unpacking the story, Brian! 🙂
Samuel—Thanks for writing a great story and sharing it! I think you hit on something very elemental about relationships and sex with this story. I look forward to reading more of your work!
Re:Issue 50 My Pal by Brian Hobbs presents a whimsical tale of an unspoken bond between young and old, the hopeful and the superannuated. A sensitive narrator captures the lost dreams of a friend who is now obsolescent,the discarded remnant of our technologic society. Hobbs fashions a wistful vision of mortality and tenderness, reminding us of the lines:
I cannot sing the old songs,
I sung long years ago
For heart and voice would fail me,
And foolish tears would flow;
For bygone hours come o’er my heart,
With each familiar strain
I cannot sing the old songs,
Or dream those dreams again.
http://www3.cpdl.org/wiki/index.php/I_cannot_singev_the_old_songs_(Charlotte_Alington_Barnard)
I loved Firebug by Jacob Ferrier, the imagery used in this story is simplistic and excellent. The way he describes the burned out house is great. Very much enjoyed it sir. Hope to see more.
How true, the folly of those little boys chasing and hollering after those who have lost their “play”. Well done, Brian.
Thanks for the compliment anonymous beautiful woman!
The story by Randi Wilson was a very dark read. Her descriptive account, however, drew me in and I found it hard to look away. Like the slasher films of old this kept me wanting to read on through the gaps in my fingers.