The After Party
by Doug Hoekstra
Every morning, Gary called his parents back in Albany. It was the least he could do. The phone rang several times, and then there was silence, followed by a loud clacking noise, piercing feedback, a dull thud, and finally, his mother’s voice. “Hello? Who is it?”
by Doug Hoekstra Our children sit three rows in front of us, watching tornados blow across the ceiling of the planetarium in high definition. “Forces of nature” is the name of the show. Next to me, she dozes off. I gently brush the hair from