SINGLE: MISS TENNESSEE b/w THE CRYERER

This eBook contains two of my previously published short stories. "Miss Tennessee" appeared in The Land-Grant College Review #2 while "The Cryerer" appeared as One Story #8. I am grateful to the editors of both journals for originally publishing these stories. I have had a few pieces published elsewhere (and many more remain on my hard drive) but these are two of my favorites. They are offered here under a Creative Commons license. (You'll find a link to the full license below.) You are free to distribute them electronically, as is, with this preface intact, and -- hey -- a link back to www.hanasiana.com wouldn't hurt either.

Best,
Jim Hanas
jim@hanasiana.com

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.5/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 543 Howard Street, 5th Floor, San Francisco, California, 94105, USA.

MISS TENNESSEE
I loved the little guy from the day she brought him home. She carried him wrapped in a sweatshirt from the shelter at the corner where she'd been saying for months she was going to go. She set him down on the hardwood floor and he clipped around like a fawn -- clip, clip -- looking through doorways and carefully eyeing us both. He was tiny but he was strong. He was muscular and sleek, like a miniature greyhound, and we both watched intently as he clipped around, soldiering things out and whining under his breath.

Miss Tennessee looked at me and smiled and said: "Well honey? What do you think?" And I told her: "I love the little guy."

He was never really my dog. He was more like my step-dog, but together we named him Steve. We thought it was funny, giving a dog a man's name like that. But it fit, like Miss Tennessee, which I started just to tease her about being full-grown and long-legged and pretty, but in a tomboyish way that made it both absolutely ridiculous and absolutely plausible that she had ever been Miss Anything. It always made her swallow a grin. Steve's name, on the other hand, made it sound like he wasn't a dog at all, but this little man. Miss Tennessee often called him that: the little man.

Steve liked me okay but he loved Miss Tennessee. With me it was man things. After he got snipped or when he was stung by bees, down there, in grass that came up to his chin, he would come sit by me, hoping I'd understand. With her, it was everything else. When she took a bath, he stood with his paws on the side of the tub, and when she went someplace he couldn't go he stood where he last saw her and waited. If she went into a store and left us together in the car, he stood with his paws on the dashboard, waiting and crying and looking at me like maybe I was to blame.

He was tough in his own way. He growled at people passing by and people who didn't give him what he wanted. It was a deep and sincere growl, if not loud or a...

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