Kevin John Brockmeier (born December 6, ) is an American writer of fantasy and literary O. Henry Award ( for the short story “These Hands” and for “The Ceiling”); Nelson Algren Award; Italo Calvino Short Fiction Award. Within a week, the object in the night sky had grown perceptibly larger. It would appear at sunset, when the air was dimming to purple, as a For the short story. In Kevin Brockmeier’s short story, “The Ceiling,” Brockmeier implies that marriage is not necessary in our society. In fact, Brockmeier criticizes.
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Stephen Mandruzzato, head of the prestigious Horton Institute of Astronomical Studies, had this to say: Joshua took my sleeve. Melissa and Joshua were already waiting on the front lawn when I got there. You can read it here. The people of my town were uncertain as to whether the object was spreading or approaching—we could see only that it was getting bigger—and this matter gave rise to much speculation. A trough spread open beneath the shingles of our roof, and we watched our house collapse into a mass of brick and mortar.
I had never seen such a thing before. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: New story recommendations from this week.
Mitch was our next-door neighbor. We almost hit a helicopter. It sounded like gunshots detonating in a closed room. The object was not yet visible during the day, but we could feel it above us as we woke to the sunlight each morning: That night, after the last of the children had gone home, my wife and I sat outside drinking, each of us wrapped in a separate silence.
I kissed her cheek and rubbed the base of her neck, felt the cirrus curls of hair there moving back and forth through my fingers. He leaned back into the sunlight, and her calf ceuling tautened. It broke drill bits.
There was nothing there. Notify me of new comments via email. I was lying on the ground, a tree root pressing into the small of my back, and I shifted slightly to the side. The world at this time was ceoling of confusion and misgiving and unforeseen changes of heart. Apartment buildings and energy pylons. Views Read Edit View history. The birds went away when no one was looking.
“The Ceiling” by Kevin Brockmeier | creativewriting
She paused for a moment, perfectly still. Notify ceilinf of new comments via email. All stories by decade. There was a place between the post office and the library where the view to the west was occluded by neither hills nor buildings, and crowds often gathered there to watch the distant blue belt of the sky. You are commenting using your WordPress. Good call attaching the link. I took Joshua by the shoulders.
Where do we go from here? I fed one at the zoo when I was little. He takes him to the library for a reading session where, ominously, the story of the day is Chicken Little, which ekvin of a chicken that throws his small town into panic after insisting that the sky is falling down.
A man on a stepladder was pasting a sign to the ceiling: But, what does it mean? The opening is interesting because, even though the narrative progresses at a comfortable pace and things are described nicely, the narration seems to jump from topic to topic, not giving any context in some places. I felt a kick of pain in my chest and called to Joshua from across the street. When nothing happened, I squeezed it again. It occurred to me that if nothing were to change, if the ceiling were simply to hover where it was forever, we might come to forget that it was even there, charting for ourselves a new map of the night sky.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. I was watching him in the mirror, which was both parallel to and coextensive with a mirror on the opposite wall.
Her hand stilled in the air. Learn how your comment data is processed. It blotted out the light of passing stars and seemed to travel across the face of the moon, but it did not move. I watched the water in the toilet bowl rise and fall as gusts of wind channeled their way through the pipes. He said hello to the children, coughed his throat clear, and opened his book to the title page: Does it mean that the main character has finally realized his wife’s unhappiness? At the graveyard, a small boy brockmeierr tossing a tennis ball into the air as his mother swept the dirt from a memorial tablet.
You are commenting using your WordPress. However, I like to think of this heightened emotion within myself as the sign of a good story and I can assure you all that the author definitely reeled me in with this offering. Languages Deutsch Polski Edit links. Melissa made a sudden noise, a deep, defeated little oh. I wondered sometimes brockmeiwr I would ever see my reflection pooled at my feet again.
His short stories have been printed in numerous publications and he has published two collections of stories, two children’s novels, and two fantasy novels. People emerging from their doorways could be seen to brace themselves against the charge and pres-sure of it. There’s a creepy ceiling in the sky!