Fiction | March 01, 2010
Yukon River
Diane Simmons
The full text of this story is not currently available online.
It’s 1975, and Len had known about the pipeline. But he thought it would be far away, lost in the immense space of Alaska, a trickle of silver sliding alone silently in the vast slope of snow. As he lay on his bunk in Folsom, he had not thought of it being right here, a fat, ugly snake of greed and pollution; he had not imagined it strangling the little snow-covered log town he had fallen in love with.
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
Jun 19 2020
Joy Comes in the Morning
I went over to Rosalind’s house because the Sunday Sisters had gathered to pray for me. I told them I didn’t believe in God but attended services with my mother… read more
Fiction
Jun 19 2020
O’Herlihy (Née Noonan)
On the second of April 1923 she was born in the main bedroom of the family home, in Drumcondra. Her colour was deep blue. The thundery richness of this blue,… read more
Fiction
Jun 19 2020
Purple Knot
My mother’s birdwatching mania began with my fourteenth birthday, when she gave me a pair of exorbitantly priced binoculars she’d bought from an enthusiast in Lexington, Kentucky. They weighed as… read more