Fiction | April 23, 2019
Gateway to the Arctic
Jedediah Cannon
I signed up for this surgery, believe it or not, just nine days after Susie and I returned to Santa Fe from Mike’s trial. Mike, our oldest. Michael Jr. Twelve days after the jury, majority Inupiat, delivered its verdict. Five weeks ago. “All right,” Dr. Dejean said, “so we’re where we knew we’d be.” He swiveled on his stool. Hefted a life-size model of the male urinary tract from his desk. “Straightforward, as I told you last time. Little discomfort afterward, beyond a catheter for a week.” With space-age instruments, Dr. Dejean would slice in through my bladder, hollow out my prostate, and suture me up, sex drive intact, for all it was worth anymore.
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.
Want to read more?
Subscribe TodaySEE THE ISSUE
SUGGESTED CONTENT
Fiction
Feb 11 2020
Boulder
One day it wasn’t there. The next day it was. One day we were busy working the whole length of our section of road, south of 63rd Street, north of… read more
Fiction
Feb 11 2020
Earthquake Weather
Around dawn, the house shakes us awake. As Californians, we know what to do. Never hang pictures above your bed, or shelves of books. Those mistakes could kill you. Avoid… read more
Fiction
Feb 11 2020
Nom de Guerre
Who do you trust? Who tells you the truth? You trust your mechanic but you keep the receipts. You trust your mother, but you cut the cards. Maybe you trust… read more