Unbelievably Crappy Ending
The tornado siren is activated
every Thursday at lunchtime.
We are used to it in a way. In
the way that we have the wave
down whenever it screams. It’s
the only hint to pilgrims that we
are so together. And it doesn’t
matter what activities occupy
our time—Dr. Broomtower
in surgery, my wife Francesca
snapping her underwear, Zeke
Vandezande rolling a bully
downhill in a garbage can, we
all flail hands when it’s time.
If you stay long enough, you’ll
wave, too. Nothing fancy, just
an ordinary style of waving.
As ordinary as anything.
“It Was All A Dream” Ending
Fifteen years to the day, a dachshund
waddles in through the backdoor like
it was the most natural thing in the world.
Something is different about her.
She’s wearing a bandana now, yes, but
that’s not it. She’s not black and tan
anymore, but it’s not that either.
“Well! Where have you been?!” spills
her once owners. The dachshund regales
us with the entire story, from escape
to her time as a refugee in Bismarck.
It’s quite a story—more than a few tears
are shed. By the end, the dachshund is tired.
She sniffs around for her bed. “I’m so sorry,”
her former owners say. “It made us sad, so we tossed it.”
And no one in the room has ever seen such
a defeated face. The dachshund calls a cab. She
doesn’t pack a bag or say farewell to anyone.
She moseys back out of our lives, her tail
dappled, straight as an icepick.
Nate Logan was born and raised in Indianapolis, IN. His recent work appears in glitterMOB, Pittsburgh Poetry Review, and Stirring. With Laura Theobald, he edits Spooky Girlfriend Press.