Carter? Why do you have to take me to that God-awful place? Do you hate me? You can really get rid of me like that?” Still nothing, so the impulse from my brain to my hands makes its way to grab ahold of the steering wheel. Next thing I hear is Carter screaming and the piercing screech of the tires grinding against the asphalt. The colors of the tundra/desert swirl around us as if we’ve been sucked into an eternal winter twister. The car slides down into the landscape, tearing up the black snow. I try to count how many times we spin in full circles as we go into the ditch, but that doesn’t seem to be important right now. I look to Carter, his face as firey and red as the words I didn’t even understand until now. His tightened lips turns into a wicked grimace, “That’s why!”
AWARDS IN PROSE: FICTION
almost as if he’s happy this happened.
“‘Tundra/Desert’ is a tightly confined, emotionally urgent story, the stakes high, the language sharp, the narrative carrying symbolic weight.” Judge: K.L. Cook, Associate Professor at Iowa State University, in Writing and the Environment MFA
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