Arthur Vibert
Stories (9/0)
Last Night At The Pear Tree
We have a Saturday evening ritual where I live. When the sun has gone down and there’s only a little light left in the sky, we walk down to The Pear Tree. To be clear, while there is an actual pear tree at The Pear Tree, the tree itself is not the attraction. The Pear Tree is a bar, or I suppose it would be more accurate to call it a pub. There’s food and music and friends and above all, beer. And plenty of it.
By Arthur Vibert3 years ago in Fiction
Into The Tubes
The Shoshone Ice Cave in Southern Idaho is one of those goofy tourist attractions that used to line America’s highways in the days before traveling on interstate freeways became the norm. It has a giant dinosaur statue for no apparent reason and a museum that features various rocks and artifacts, but the main attraction is a lava tube that was configured in just such a way that, even in the midst of a barren desert, a large deposit of ice has formed from condensation in the tube.
By Arthur Vibert3 years ago in Fiction
The Red Button Problem
He was under strict instructions: when the green light goes on, push the red button. It couldn’t be less complicated. There was no ambiguity. There was one light that would eventually go on and it would be green. There was one red button to push. Simple.
By Arthur Vibert3 years ago in Fiction
Why Women Live Longer Than Men
Tonight was to be the night of cow tipping. They had discussed it at length. First there would be alcohol consumed in copious quantities. The kind of alcohol would depend on what could be stolen from parents or the local convenience store. One thing was clear, however: alcohol was required. Without it, there would be no cow-tipping.
By Arthur Vibert3 years ago in Fiction
The Marigold Tattoo
I will never forget her marigold tattoo. She told me it symbolized grief but because of its color it also symbolized the sun and was therefore hopeful—optimistic even. It was particularly appropriate for her. Like the tattoo, she encompassed many seemingly contradictory qualities at once and I never knew from one moment to the next which of her many moods would be on display. She was as changeable as island weather, dark clouds and torrential rain one moment, bright and sunny the next.
By Arthur Vibert3 years ago in Fiction
The Random Object Society
It was Thursday and Oscar Kangas stood by the door waiting patiently but with a fair degree of anticipation for UPS to deliver his package from The Random Object Society. Each Thursday a package wrapped in brown paper containing a random object was delivered directly to him.
By Arthur Vibert3 years ago in Fiction
On the Beam
She had gotten up well before dawn so she could drive the 20 miles out to the ancient barn just as the sun came up and she’d been there ever since, taking pictures of every imaginable thing for her college photography class. Now it was after noon and the light was ugly, beating down mercilessly on the sere landscape. She grabbed the pack she had left lying by the barn door and went inside, standing in the doorway while her eyes acclimated to the sudden darkness.
By Arthur Vibert3 years ago in Fiction
A Good Day
There was a glimmer of light on the horizon which meant that the sun would be rising soon. That gave him at most two or three hours before it was too hot to move, so he needed to find a hole he could hunker down in until evening. Usually there were several holes off to the side of the road where previous travelers had camped but he didn’t see much that looked deep enough. The deeper the hole the cooler the air was the rule of thumb. And the cooler the air the less moisture he would lose to perspiration.
By Arthur Vibert3 years ago in Fiction