Clown in a Cornfield

by Adam Cesare

Slipping further into shock, Janet didn’t lose her essential Janet-ness. As Rust took hold of her, Janet tried waving him away. Telling him to leave her alone. Mumbling that he was a loser.

“I’m sorry,” Janet said, her voice soft and vulnerable, more sure of her words than she’d sounded since entering the corn. “For what?” Rust asked. “That I was always so mean to you . . .” She paused. “You stupid hick.”