Clown in a Cornfield

by Adam Cesare

Her tone was why people thought she was such a bitch.

it was fun to watch the sheep quiver.

Life, Quinn had decided on the long ride out here, was a matter of perspective and attitude. There was a way to look at anything and make it seem okay. She felt sure of it, because . . . well, what other choice did she have?

He seemed ready to work if the world would let him.

Quinn had met girls like Janet before. Amateur lawyers.

He’s pretty cute, for an arsonist.

Never easy being the new kid—even when you’re not a kid anymore.

He was just hollowed out. He went through the motions for a year after, afraid to upset the routine, unsure that the ground beneath him wasn’t about to open up again.

Was violence inevitable?

His hair fell over his eyes in a way that made him look sad. Beautiful, but sad. And Quinn knew in her heart that if her mother were alive, she would warn her. Cole Hill was broken. He was trouble in every conceivable way a boy could be trouble. And Quinn already wanted to save him from himself. And she could hear her mother’s voice say: “Exactly. Look how well that worked out for your dad.”

She looked like the Queen of Hearts, already bored with her kingdom, searching the crowd and deciding which of her subjects would be next to lose their head.

think if you’re going to eat meat, you should know where it comes from and what you’re taking from the world.”

This night was taking years off his life.

Janet Murray might not have been from around here, but she knew where she was going and she never forgot what they said to her along the way.

See, people from my generation, we have what they call empathy.” Cole scoffed. People of his generation. History wasn’t Cole’s best subject, but he could remember a thing or two that Dunne’s generation had handled poorly.

You didn’t get over killer clowns quickly.