Larks Monthly Review, January 2012

By Daniel Pool

Larks Fiction Magazine, a trusted source of independent literature and art is proud to offer their weekly installments in a monthly issue so you can take Larks on the go.

From the lunar surface to just down the "Street Ahead", January 2012's edition of Larks brings you the rising stars of literature.

In this issue; Eleanor Leonne Bennett, James Vachowski, Luke M. Jones, Ron Koppelberger, David Wright, Tess Pfeifle, Samantha Jubilee, Josh Freeman, Melinda Giordano, Quentin A. Ponratz and Russell Bradbury-Carlin.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daniel Pool
• Release date: Jan 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466107519

Daniel Pool

Daniel Pool received a doctorate in political science from Brandeis University and a law degree from Columbia University. He lives in New York City.

Book preview

Larks Fiction Magazine Monthly Review January 2012

Published by Larks Media

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Daniel J. Pool

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

Cover Image by Eleanor Leonne Bennett, Is Under the Weather

Eleanor is a 15 year old photographer and artist who has won contests with National Geographic, The Woodland Trust, The World Photography Organization, Winston’s Wish, Papworth Trust, Mencap, and Dot Dot Dash She was also the only person from the UK to have her work displayed in the National Geographic and Airbus run See The Bigger Picture global exhibition tour with the United Nations International Year Of Biodiversity 2010.Only visual artist published in the Taj Mahal Review June 2011. Youngest artist to be displayed in Charnwood Art's Vision 09 Exhibition and New Mill's Artlounge Dark Colours Exhibition.

See her website at www.eleanorleonnebennett.zenfolio.com

From the Desk of the Editor;

Hello and welcome to the January 2012 Edition of Larks Fiction Magazine! This is the first (and with a bit of luck many) print and e-magazine issues to be produced by Larks Media. I hope you enjoy the works here and will support our efforts by joining us on Twitter, Facebook, and of course joining us each and every Sunday on Blogger.

I would like to thank all the people who have made this publication possible but it would take much too long—so instead here are the people that without this magazine would never have been made: Court Ellyn, Brian Fatah Steele, Meredith McLean, Quentin A. Pongratz, and my wife Kate. Thank you all and best wishes in your endeavors

Yours,

Daniel J. Pool

LFM Editor

Table of Contents

Issue One

James Vachowski -- I was a Teen-Age Wolf Cub

Luke M. Jones -- The Adversarial Numbers

Issue Two

Ron Koppelberger -- Deputy Cold

David Wright – Genie in a Bottle

Issue Three

Tess Pfeifle -- The Good Pastor Tom

Samantha Jubilee -- The Romance Miser

Josh Freeman – Once…

Issue Four

Melinda Giordano -- The Moon Went Fishing

Quentin A. Ponratz – The Juice Soothed His Memory

Russell Bradbury-Carlin -- The Disappearing Girl

Issue Five

Ron Koppelberger – The Circle

Daniel J. Pool – Just Got to Laugh about the End

Issue One, Volume Three

I was a Teen-Age Wolf Cub

By James Vachowski

Yeah, that’s me.  I’m him.

I don’t get recognized nearly as often these days, but it still happens every once in a while—usually in the supermarkets. It’s always the same routine, too:  they take a good long look at me, glance down at the row of tabloid magazines near the checkout, then another quick peek.  I’ve gotten used to it, though.  I just flash them a patient smile and nod.  Invariably, they turn away quickly and try to act nonchalant before looking back one more time.

It’s just one of those things.  I brought the attention on myself, really.  No one forced me to make the rounds on the talk-show circuit and give all those interviews.  I mean, I signed that book deal with my own two paws.  But what else could I do at the time?  It’s not like I had any marketable skills to fall back on, you know?  Howling at the moon and scratching fleas are great party tricks, but those talents just aren’t in high demand by the private sector right now.  Hey, it’s a recession, man.

When I consider all that life has handed me, I just don’t get upset about being raised by wolves anymore.  I’m past it.  Sure, my parents lost me when I was a toddler, but let’s face it:  I was no Little Angel, always wandering off.  But life goes on, right?  Those emotional issues have to be dealt with before you can get past them.  The trick is to try to treat them as learning experiences.  That’s a lesson for all you kids out there:  when Mom and Dad say to hold on to their hand, just do it!

I finally had to stop giving all those interviews, though.  It was always the same old song and dance:  What was it like being raised by wolves for fifteen years?  And really, that’s a pretty dumb question when you think about it.  The problem is, no one ever stops to think about it.  What was it like?  What do you think it was like?  It was furry and wet.  We slept all day and howled at the moon all night.  We ate meat and sniffed each other’s butts.  I always try to tell reporters that the wolves took great care of me.  That the pack accepted me right from the beginning.  That I had a happy and well-adjusted childhood.But no one ever believes that.  Once I see that look of skepticism on the reporter’s face, I know it won’t be much longer until the camera cuts away to a stock photo of a lone wolf howling.  I just smile patiently and remove my gloves when they ask for a close-up shot of my hairy hands.

It’s the ‘well-adjusted’ part that no one ever buys into.  Is it really so hard to believe that some kid raised by wolves can still turn out okay?  I mean, sure, there was an adjustment period after the police brought me back to my parents, but that’s to be expected.  The first couple of months were pretty shaky, what with the howling and scratching wallpaper, but we got through it together.  I still sleep all day, but at least I’m in night school.  I got my GED and went on to study architecture.

Of course I miss my pack.  How could I not?  They were the only family I had for fifteen long years.  We still keep in touch, though.  We talk every full moon.  I mean, I don’t want them to think of me as some kind of ingrate.  The kid who eats all the raw chicken for years but never remembers Mother’s Day once he leaves the nest.  Not me.

It’s always a happy reunion when we see each other, so I