The short fiction of j hardy carroll
“A film is a loosely collected series of events which don’t hold up to scrutiny,” he says. “Untruths which are designed to evoke certain emotions in us.” We are watching an obscure work by a Japanese director he admires. He’s seen it, of course, but years ago. “My memories of this movie are those…
It was the most ominous storm warning she’d ever seen, TAKE SHELTER IMMEDIATELY flashing red. The tornado sirens sounded for thirty seconds, then stopped. She headed up the stairs, assuming it was over. The wind hit then, a roar like a jet taking off. The trees shrieked as they were torn from the ground, hurled…
“The trains always slow when they pass the power station,” Dad had said. “For safety.” Safety, he thinks, watching the rolling wheels. He’s never stood so near. Watching from afar, they didn’t seem to be going all that fast, but from this close it’s different. He feels their crushing mass shaking the ground beneath his…