for Ryan Schneider's Hideout

I thought I'd post the entire piece that I wrote for Ryan Schneider's book. Not enough people are going to have an opportunity to actually get a copy.

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Elbow to elbow he arrived with him like they all arrived with them – besieged by Pabst through the naked birch, by the way or by defogged Celica. He’d come. The snows came too. Books fluttered from branches, stamping slender declarations in the snow. Nightstands and empty wine bottles marked the trail. They marched together through the icy underbrush. It was like marching through stale cake icing. He thought, there’re boots designed specifically for walking through cake icing, but I don’t own a pair.
Shit.
Hoots and yelps, both human and otherwise, echoed off the old cabin roofs and he followed the diminishing shouts past the tree line, into the woods. He could identify each dog by its bark. Clyde then Xavier then Brown Bitch then Clyde again. Brown Bitch wasn’t her given name. Nothing is named appropriately.He followed like they followed, brought down and drug down and somehow standing in the stilted moonlight.
“Moon’s bright.” He said.
Her boyfriend coughed and added, “Bright blue.”
He thought smoking kept him warmer, but he was wrong. Back toward the cabin, someone clocked an empty bottle against a tree stump. Clyde then Brown Bitch then laughter.
With shivering fingers, he threaded the last button of his shirt like it made a difference.
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