A Rooster Crows

There was now enough light outside so that she could see the clock hands. Four-forty. She could make out their voices outside, laughing, congratulating themselves on a night of adventure. Martin, Louis, and two women's voices. Martin no longer bothered with trying to be quiet when he came home six hours late. More laughing, a truck door closed, and the sound of tire on gravel.

Martin opened the door knocked over a plate when he took off his shoes and muttered “shit” and “fuck” under his breath, undressing as he came down the hall. She heard their daughter moan in her sleep in the next room. She closed her eyes, not bothering to be mad at him for coming home six hours late. It made no difference. He wouldn't stop and she couldn't leave. There was nowhere to go and no way for her to leave. No car, just cactus and mountain and trailer stretched out forever. She rolled over.

Martin was completely naked, slipping in and shutting the door behind him, climbed in, pressing against her. The smells of beer and sweat and perfume fell over the bed with him, covering her. His leg. He pressed his hips against her and she felt his erection growing.

I missed you. He kissed her neck, his hand stroking down.

Who were those women? she asked.

I want you. He moved between her legs.

Who were those women?

He lifted her leg and she lied there, watching the sun rise.

by Craig Calhoun

Closure

He did not survive the accident, but his suitcase did.

Among his belongings she found a vine branch, tomato seeds and euro coins. She was examining the stuff on the table, deep in her thoughts. The officer was showing her an engagement ring, but she could not concentrate.

Her lips began to tremble when she saw a sheet of paper under his wallet. It was a book page, showing roosters walking proudly in a row. Tears blurred her vision. He remembered! Once she had shown him her roosters: rooster mugs, socks, T-shirts, plates, photos, toys, porcelain roosters, rooster feathers and rooster stamps.

All of a sudden her collection seemed to have grown by one item. The last one.

by Farida Samerkhanova