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Susan Tepper Tricks DEAD OF NIGHT while Luanne slept he packed the car. He’d lapsed the insurance on The Coconut Grill a year earlier. Push to shove he couldn’t say why. Luanne, of course having no idea, cooked merrily along; till the hurricane hit and the storm surge like a great white swallowed up the entire wooden structure, and everything else beachfront. Left where The Grill once stood was a shallow cellar used for food storage. Kids jumped in and out, slopping around in the dirty water, bashing each other with bags of ruined food. After he got the car packed, he sat in the living room, nursing a bottle of Scotch, till the sun came up. At breakfast announced he was going north for the hunting season. Doing pancakes in a red fryer, Luanne chuckled. “Crocs?” “Deer.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Deer?” He stared at her, keeping it all empty around the eyes. “Where deer? Where north? Alaska?” “Not that far north. Bucks County.” Her pancakes always turned out the perfect shade of golden. He watched her flip the first batch. Today being no exception. She deserved to have her own cooking show but of course you need connections. Who here in Pompano was connected? Nobody he knew. 119

Profile for Mojave River Media

Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019  

The Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019 issue spotlights superb poetry and prose by brilliant contributors from around the globe. Enjoy 2...

Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019  

The Mojave River Review spring/summer 2019 issue spotlights superb poetry and prose by brilliant contributors from around the globe. Enjoy 2...

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