Short Story Selections

Winter Dreams, the alternate text, Pt. 2 by Asa Montreaux Later that afternoon they set off on the single-lane road that ran along the lake, to the other cabins. Amory and Genevra sat in front and their boy, Archer, sat in the back silently. Amory had only had one drink before they left to make sure he was in the mood when they arrived. In his day it was normal to drink lots. People were unaware of the consequences of drinking alcohol, and did not temper their intake of it. He drove a little slowly, conscientious of the precious cargo in the back. He cared about his son’s health, he was the link to the future. Other than his writing, his son would be the only thing to carry his legacy forward. Archer was very likeable, and he fit into the family plans nicely. The road curved and curved around the lake. The car moved at a gentle pace of fifteen miles an hour, and they reached the other cabins in twenty minutes.  Amory approached the cabins, driving past the nearest one, and parking ...

 

  Winter Dreams, the alternate text By Asa Montreaux Outside, across the dull-colored lake Amory could see the other cabins. A single light shone from the middle one, the other two stood illuminated only in an effervescent gleam. He wondered what the inhabitants were up to, otherwise there was nothing to occupy one’s mind out here in the country. It was unpleasant being home in Minnesota, but such was the times. The depression had been the curve ball in everyone’s plans, Amory figured. For him, otherwise he would have been the CEO of the advertising company his Dad had purchased a small share in by 1930.  It was 1933 now, and Amory found himself scribbling novels to try and pay the bills. Strangely, he was chasing an artistic vision, trying to create something that would last forever, and that people would surely die to have. Sitting alone at night, when it wasn’t too cold around the lake, he would wonder whether it wasn’t an unachievable task, to create a novel of prose as be...