Our Current Issue
Volume XXVII | Issue 1 | 2014
From "Thanksgiving for Spiders" (.p 56)
by John Michael Mumme
It’s a chaotic scene: spiders squatting awkwardly on chairs around a long rectangular table, their back legs constantly adjusting their grip, keeping their fragile abdomens from touching the seats. Their front four legs scrabble over the table, frantically scooping the disgusting food—there’s no turkey, just rotting insects, a few small reptiles, the odd bird or bat here and there, and all of it wrapped in white silk and smothered with a soupy, much-too-organic gravy—towards their scythe-like mandibles. And there I am at the head of the table, eyes wide and posture nervously upright, trying to direct traffic, be a good host, and keep my own lunch down while I observe the gormandizing all around me.
“Hey!” I shout at a jumping spider that has lost its manners and begun hopping across the table, snatching food from its bigger, dumber relatives. “Stay in your seat, please.” The spider gives me a sullen look—with at least a few of its eyes—and skulks back to its seat.
“Damn spiders,” I mumble. “I can never tell when you buggers are looking at me.”
About Concho River Review
Begun by novelist and short-story writer Dr. Terry Dalrymple in 1987, Concho River Review is a biannual literary journal published by the Department of English and Modern Languages at Angelo State University. Since its inception, CRR has prided itself on publishing some of the finest short fiction, nonfiction, and poetry from both emerging and established authors. Although originally designed as a forum for Texas writers, over the years its reach and interests have extended well beyond Texas and the Southwest.