Destroyed Cattle Pens, Texas

by Henry Cherry

The motel was named the Shamrock,
memorializing a fancier one owned by

the real-life guy James Dean played in Giant.

The dog pushed free of the truck, grateful to touch paw

to ground. My knuckles were white from

steadying the wheel as the wind hit the side of the Penske.


I walked over to get us some fast food. The sky dipped

and turned the color of a bruise. I looked out into the

wide open of the panhandle, and there it was.

Twenty, maybe thirty miles off. Funnel cloud sweeping

back up into itself. The dog looked up from the burger and

stared at the twister disappearing into a mousy horizon.