The Hungry Man

By Giovanni Diaz

What rises from the empty spaces in our hearts?

 

A boy who feels ignored by his father encounters a stranger in the woods. What follows is a spiral of madness, bloodshed, and a loss of identity.  

 

The Hungry Man examines how neglect can open doors that should remain closed. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Giovanni Diaz
• Release date: Apr 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393872511

Giovanni Diaz

Giovanni Diaz is a writer from New York City. His short story, "4H", can be found in the November 2018 issue of Drunk Monkeys Magaizine.  He is currently working on his next novel, The Sons of a Rebel God

Book preview

They resolved from the mist between trees.

Jacob watched them from the porch, men moving through the forest, burly forms made minute by branches swaying to the cadence of winter wind. The boy fumbled the unlit cigarette, cursed under his breath, and broke it apart, spilling tobacco onto the step.

Maybe you'll actually smoke that once you get hair on your nuts, Loraine said, smiling through his beard and ignoring the playful slap from Gaston as they neared the porch.

Ah, go easy on him, Benedict said, stopping before his son. Jacob's father stood strong and measured, age evident only through errant strands of grey hair spilling from his cap, and the deepening blues of his eyes. He's just frustrated 'cause I ain't letting him pick up a chainsaw.

What am I even doing here? Jacob replied.

The men mounted the cabin steps, some tousling his hair as if he were a pet.

Benedict squinted, looked about, grinned.

Enjoying the woods.

Jacob batted Gaston's hand, his brother climbing the stairs after Lorraine. Then he looked back at his father, tracing his silhouette against the immensity of the forest.

You don't think you're a little too anxious to grow up? Benedict said.

Jacob spat.

You didn't answer me.

Right. 'Cause it's a stupid question.

You can't just leave me here all day with nothing to do.

I can and I will.

What do you expect, then? I'm supposed to be happy about this? I can help. I ain't a kid anymore.

Benedict sighed and looked away. Trees danced. Wind rose into a feral screech. He frowned and looked back through the mist, as if seeing something there that shouldn't have been.

He turned back to