writer
When Shine told people she bartended at the Buckhorn, their eyes widened. “What’s a nice girl like you,” they said, and then their voices trailed off. “I heard somebody got shot,” they said. There was a real bullet hole in the mirror, but it was ancient history—part of the bar’s character, like the heads on the walls and the smell of stale beer. To Shine, it felt safe, like sitting on a gargantuan comfy couch with all your cousins—sunk into the softness, everyone good-naturedly elbowing everyone else. ~ “A Dangerous Shine,” Word Riot
Let me give you another taste.
It was catastrophic failure Norman was worried about. The bridge was being undermined. The river meandered to the left where it came from under the bridge’s pylons, and over time the water had seriously undercut the rock riprap that protected the right bank and the bridge itself. It was Baer’s Law—because of the forces of the earth’s rotation, in the northern hemisphere the right banks of rivers were hardest hit by erosion. ~ “Control Erosion,” SNReview (.pdf)
If you like what you see, join me.
Poke around. Read a little. See what you think.
© Copyright 2009 Tamara Linse
Photo by
RiverNorth Photography