Nonfiction | January 21, 2016
King of the World
You are being romanced by William Wallace, the real one, not the blue-faced, thick-fingered, pre-nutjob Mel Gibson version, while you lie sleeping next to your snoring husband in real life. That kilt, those thick, dirty thighs, all that bushy chest hair, the crust of Scottish sweat dried over older layers of Scottish sweat, smelling of bog moss and political passion. He grabs you by the hair and stretches your neck taut and you wake up at civil dawn, the boulders of the Highlands disappearing into Ikea curtains and coordinated wall art from Marshalls Home Goods, Your seven-year-old is standing at the side of your bed with paths of tears coursing down her cheeks and a mutilated hamster in her soft, cupped hands.
This essay is not currently available online.
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
Editors' Prize Winner
Jun 02 2021
Opera House
Opera House By Robert Stothart Everything seemed married to everything else. —Gustave Baumann, printmaker, Santa Fe Overture A mere 7,918 miles in diameter, Earth, our home together, travels a minuscule… read more
Nonfiction
Jun 02 2021
The Valley of Boys
The Valley of Boys Sage Marshall Boys, boys, a valley of boys. We lived in a small town. The snow rose in silent blankets outside the classroom window. It came… read more
Nonfiction
Mar 02 2021
A Series of Tubes
Although widely ridiculed for the statement, the late Alaska Senator Ted Stevens was right when he said, “The Internet is a series of tubes.” He was just off by a… read more