sethers's profile

The Fence By Seth Harrington It was a humid, autumn Saturday in Minneapolis. Frank Malone’s buttocks molded perfectly to the white, plastic chair. Before he knew it, his legs were sprawled out diagonally from his pelvis at 45° angles, almost as if positioned in a gynecologist’s stirrups. His neck slowly began to slide down the backrest. And then Sheriff Ranek appeared, donning a just-ironed uniform and pearl tie. Frank watched as the sheriff advanced toward the podium, gavel i...

White Lie By Seth Harrington Carlos and I met at a bar of all places; he was tending, and I was fulfilling the roll of lonely patron. It was a Tuesday night if I remember correctly, and I had just finished visiting an uncle on the south side of the city; other than me the bar was abandoned. So Carlos and I began to talk. Not normal conversation, he was not a normal guy; he was quirky, and reeked of personality, maybe to a fault. He had shaggy, dark hair that fell just atop his ears and bangs ...

 Man, you meet some characters. When I was younger I’d go with my mom to garage sales all the time; spending the remnants of my allowance on 1980s baseball cards, Jim Davis books, or used Matchbox cars. I distinctly remember the treasures I collected but the characters I met, well, they slipped through the walls of my childhood psyche. Maybe now since my role is reversed I spend more time focusing on the people. I watch them pace up and down the concrete driveway and I make assumpt...

To an Athlete Killing Young By Seth Harrington I can not crack the code of life – and even if I did, I’m not sure I’d like what I found. For the last few years people have told me to try and make up for lost time; but that is not possible when I myself am still lost, wandering, struggling everyday not to throw myself from an 8th story balcony or drive my car off a wharf into the fresh, vast, welcoming Pacific. Life is always worth living, the same people say; but every night...

  <!--Session data-->   White Lie By Seth Harrington White lies are harmless, right? That’s why they’re white. They’re trivial, colorless, blank. In the broad scheme of things they hold little significance. Yeah, that’s what I thought too. But then I met Carlos. A few months after that I came to the realization that maybe white lies are white because they snowball. Because when you forge a lie, it’s a lot like climbing a mountain; and when you co...