Fiction | December 01, 2008

The full text of this story is not currently available online.

The creature screeched just as it hit the ice, and he thought he felt the collision there on the shore where he leaned against a knobby sycamore. Then the thing skidded, and there was a little trail of blood.

If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.