Shoot Like You’re Awesome

he accommodations for the tournament were merely satisfactory. The room appeared on the other side of the door, like a boy uncomfortable in his own skin who grows to be a man uncomfortable with his own innate and unavoidable talents, like Marlon Brando. Westinghouse knew such a man. He was that man, and Westinghouse knew himself to be capable of awesome things. Certainly, the burden of expectation weighed heavily on his shoulders. He was the beast of burden pulling the ten-thousand pound plow, cultivating success with each new row.


I started to fear that the teeter-totter had never happened at all; after the disappearance no one spoke of it. I couldn’t know for sure until I needed something the most again. Months passed. I’d wanted a lot. A new baseball glove and a trampoline, for example, but I couldn’t say I’d needed them the most. I rode the pine on my Little League team and the trampoline was only a necessity because I wanted to impress a girl named Cathy who ignored me. A trampoline would change that.


(originally published by Thematic Literary Magazine) a short story by James David Patrick (cover photo by andrew and hobbes) “I’ll hide. You find me,” she said. Eyes veiled by Snow White bangs. Others had readied for the game and gathered around, but “you” had meant me. Her eyes had paused …