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    Thursday Night Special
    Thursday Night Special
    Thursday Night Special
    Ebook48 pages35 minutes

    Thursday Night Special

    By Chandra Steele

    ()

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    About this ebook

    In this collection, love and grief pass each other in the night and sometimes on train platforms. Occasionally they find themselves mingling at the same party or mixing in dreams. A woman memorizes her new identification numbers in a waiting room in the afterlife. A man transcribes letters for a living bu

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChandra Steele
    Release dateJul 29, 2021
    ISBN9781087899442
    Thursday Night Special

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      Book preview

      Thursday Night Special - Chandra Steele

      Thursday Night Special

      Chandra Steele

      Thursday Night Special

      Copyright © 2021 by Chandra Steele

      This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

      For my mother, who taught me beginning, middle, and end

      Contents

      Take a Number

      Boy, You Turn Me

      Not My Baby

      Sic Transit Memoria

      Lives of the Saints

      The Copy Artist

      Bill of Goods

      Pushed

      Out of the Blue

      Thursday Night Special

      Take a Number

      The most salient fact she has so far about death is that it has at least as much bureaucracy as life. She’s still waiting for processing. She’s pretty sure it’s day three.

      The plastic seats are chipped. They’re the same cheap mass-produced mid-century replicas you’d find in an outdated DMV. She strums a shard of semi-separated laminate, the vibration resonating dully around her, duplicating the thick repetitive feeling in the center of her brain.

      She loops back to what she remembers since the after. It starts with the bus. She doesn’t recall its outside. There’s just the memory of being in what gave the appearance of a mostly empty airport shuttle. It must have taken her to this center but disembarking is yet another gap in events. There was a queue of sorts once she got here. And there’s been the waiting ever since. That’s all she has.

      No one she’s come in contact with has given her any information unless it’s been related directly to the business at hand. It’s possible she hasn’t asked anyone. She has trouble interrogating even her own thoughts. Communication feels beyond the bounds of her abilities and desires, beyond necessity.

      She knows that they are signing her up for all new cards and things with the ten-digit number she’s been assigned. It’s not the same as her social security one and she’s had persistent worry about keeping it straight. The concern enters her head from one side and leaves from the other, and when it returns, she has only the vaguest sense that it’s traveled that path in her brain before.

      Her mother is talking to the clerk, giving them some of the information she herself was not able to convey. She’s spent nearly two years missing her mother but she doesn’t believe she’s told her that or even looked directly at her. She became aware of her presence after what was likely several minutes of her mother standing over her, the repeated request for her personal details finally becoming intelligible to her. She’d silently slipped out the same smooth black wallet she’d had

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