“Our stories are phantoms of fleeting moments reflected in mirrors.” — Dennis Vickers Copy Share Image
“Our reality may be fabled, but surely will be fleeting, because when the storyteller looks away, the story collapses. In the end, we vanish… — Dennis Vickers Copy Share Image
“Faded like morning fog in the rising sun, sports team logo on a cheap T-shirt, ninety-nine dollar paint job on a Chevy.” — Dennis Vickers Copy Share Image
“Her eyes beamed over the top of the cup like Peterbilt high beams coming over a hillcrest, full moon rising over a mountain lake… — Dennis Vickers Copy Share Image
“No difference making a living with what’s between your ears and making one with what’s between your legs.” — Dennis Vickers Copy Share Image
“Your mother’s chili was onions, hamburger, tomato soup, kidney beans, no chili powder, no peppers. Mexican flags flew at half staff every time she… — Dennis Vickers Copy Share Image
“Panting like a marathon runner at mile twenty, overheated bloodhound, steam engine crawling up the Continental Divide.” — Dennis Vickers Copy Share Image
“Hung in the air like fart gas in an elevator, insecurity in a prom ballroom, guilt around a police lineup.” — Dennis Vickers Copy Share Image
“Wrinkles appeared and disappeared as he squinted his eyes and relaxed them, like someone peering into a strobe light, police car-top beacon, flashing neon… — Dennis Vickers Copy Share Image
