Winter 1986 • Vol. VIII No. 1 Fiction |

Blessed Are the Geeks

Leaves, clumped like brown parrots, hang frozen from elms arched over Ohio 53. The arch leads to New Bethlehem, a town of worn brick and twelve hundred people under a flat, gray sky. There's not much here, but by now most people have forgotten there was supposed to be. Hardware store, Eagles Hall, café, barber, a Woolworth's, Revco, and a weekly newspaper. The town started when the feds divvied up Ohio after the Revolution, parceling out farmland squares to veterans. A vet built the first tavern, in 1804. It still stands. Except now there are Smurfs painted around the bar mirror. Little blue lumps in white mobcaps, running wild-eyed behind the Rolling Rock and the Four Roses. Smurfs are painted on the walls of the Congregational Church nursery too. The church, erected in 1824, is the highest structure in town: 131 feet from ground to steeple. In front, an American flag hangs unfurled and glistening, stiff with ice from last night's storm. The trees along these street

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.

Read More

Howard an Monroe

By Robert Hiles

Leaves, clumped like brown parrots, hang frozen from elms arched over Ohio 53. The arch leads to New Bethlehem, a town of worn brick and twelve hundred people under a […]

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.