Terrain.org fiction in this issue:
  

Machete Maneuvers
by Rachel Furey, with Audio

Magnolia branches don’t cut easily, but Riley has a machete. She realizes there are times when a bow saw or shovel or loppers would be better suited for clearing trail, but she uses the machete for almost everything. She especially loves days like today when she can hold the machete after it has been sitting under the hot Mississippi sun.

The Glory of Ned Wiley
by Braden Hepner

Ned Wiley stood on the scaffolding in a blue nylon jacket, a decal of running horses peeling on the back. He set his trowel down and hunched over and his small frame curled like his cupped hand as he lit a cigarette. He wore a tall cap, its brim pulled low over his eyes, and for a moment as he smoked he looked across the road where a river-bottom swamp sprawled out and the red late-summer sky blazed up the lily-pad ponds and set the expanse afire.

Holding Patterns
by Bette Lynch Husted

Annie had followed him halfway across the yard before she turned toward the pasture and grove of pines beyond it, her thin soles already wearing a light rim of spring mud. He took the stairs one at a time, reaching out on the landing to touch the wall. In their bedroom he loosened the striped tie and looped it around the neck of the hanger, worked the slick trousers onto the wooden bar with the crease hanging straight.

Estrella, Extranjero
by Chavawn Kelley

Beads of condensation stream down the windows of the Buckhorn Bar, where bodies are close-packed and talk is loud. January in Laramie. Steam and breath collect against the night-chilled panes. Good night, José! Hope you don’t live far!, his companions from the wood mill call. The heavy door closes on half-sentences and sweet, stale smoke and beer. His will be a natural death in that nature is involved.