Plan Your Getaway

Rob Kovitz

. Published by Treyf Books in 2014.

a Canadian getaway. Here are some new things to consider:


“Tell me.”

“Tonight, at the hotel.” I nodded. The hotel, of course.

which he had put before Samsonov, and Samsonov’s suggestion, his own future hopes, etc. etc.

DIETER: Now listen. We must collect the rice, and hide it. But we must dry it because it rots too quickly if we don’t dry it.


DIETER: No, no, look, I’ve created a secret compartment here for the rice. It is at the bottom of my crap container. So I don’t think the guards are gonna want to check that.


DIETER: For our escape.


. It might get me into trouble, but it was my concern, my responsibility, and nobody else’s. Ibent over, ducked my head into thesquad car window, and said:

​“I’m going to do some exploring.”

What was Bellamy supposed to say? If I wanted to hang around an abandoned building in the middle of the night, there wasn’t much he could do about it.I was the senior officer. I was a highly decorated member of the department, and as far as Bellamy could tell, I was losing my marbles.

“I’ve got to do this, Bells. Can’t you see?” I pleaded.

“I don’t know, Coddy. You like pushing rocks uphill?”

At least Bellamy was getting paid to watch me have a nervous breakdown. It wasn’t like he could intervene. It was better to leave me alone; that was the best thing one cop could do for another brother. Let him find his own way. He’d thank you for it later.

“Don’t sweat it, Coddy. Just do what you have to. Me? I’ll make myself cozy and listen to the radio.”

My face eased up; I was acting crazy, but I couldn’t stop myself, and besides, I didn’t want to stop. I let a shred of a grin touch my mouth.

“I won’t be long.”

I bounded across the pavement, showing more vitality than I’d had in a long time. I could feel myself gathering momentum, lifting off, gaining lucidity. And simultaneously, I was getting older, breaking down, becoming creaky, forgetful, simply not enough. The two paths were going to converge on my deathbed. Even now, with the abandoned building before me, I was aware of that.



Johnny Cooper, Mario Caizone, and Tony Espolito, they don’t plan. When they’re staring at a wall or choking on sawdust, they’re thinking this: Woman, Blood, Bone. They’re thinking things you’ll never know.


The future was there one day, drying around my fingers.






is, everything blows up a week ago. All humans are dead, we Cylons all download, and the universe basks in justice…

, I said…

. A re-energized Obama urged students at the University of Richmond to lobby lawmakers: “I want you to call, I want you to e-mail, I want you to tweet, I want you to fax, I want you to visit, I want you to Facebook, send a carrier pigeon.”

. And you, Porthos?”

“I agree to it, too,” said Porthos, “if D’Artagnan approves of it. D’Artagnan, being the bearer of the letter, is naturally the head of the enterprise; let him decide, and we will execute.”

, and that we set off in half an hour.”

“Agreed!” shouted the three Musketeers in chorus.


for yourself. For both of us. Those mitts are the key to our future.

. I couldn’t stop now. I was standing back and looking at myself enter a tunnel. There I was at the entrance, catching a glimpse of myself as I disappeared down the tunnel’s bore. Follow me, the hole was saying.


No items found.


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