Issue 35, Final Fringe

The Damned Eleven

by Jim Meirose Issue 24 11.29.2010

Jenkins closes one eye, stares at the wall, and quickly throws the dice.

Another seven, he says. Damn!

That’s good, says The Other, now hopping from one foot to the other, scratching at his neck and crotch. The ants are crawling, like ants are meant to do.

But where’s the damned eleven, says Jenkins.

Maybe in the box, says the other, scratching.

What?

I said maybe in the box.

And he laughs, though still wildly scratching.

I don’t get it, says Jenkins. What box? I don’t—

Alone now, Builder turned to page two hundred of the black and grey covered book.

—fourth or one-third speed of light to the most remote nebulae visible to us—

And I still don’t understand what you mean—what box— come on now—where’s the damned eleven?

continue: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Jim Meirose

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Jim Meirose’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in many leading literary magazines including Alaska Quarterly Review, South Carolina Review, New Orleans Review, and others. One of his stories which appeared in OASIS was short-listed for the 1997 O Henry Awards. His work has also been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.