BH.net: stories, tales, dreams
When the relaunch of Border Hopping occurred in March of 2009 and we asked for submissions, the articles, the journal writings, and the poems flooded in. Fiction did not. In fact, it is still a much smaller proportion of the submissions we receive. We don't ask why. We just ask for more fiction, please!
To start, we are offering some work from three very different writers. And, as usual, we are spanning a variety of places on the globe.
1. Lyndsay Hemphill takes us to Barcelona, where romance is as potent as the local history:
Be sure to ring your bells liberally, Chris, our bike tour guide instructs us. We'll be riding through some narrow streets and you'll have to let people know we're coming.Read "The Allure of Barcelona" >>
Crisp dings fill the air in the cobbled courtyard as we ring our bells with childlike enthusiasm. All right, time to take off, Chris says. We hop up on our bike seats and begin pedaling after him. Slowly we file into a long line of thick-tires, gears, and eager tourists.
2. To offer an opposing view on love, the words of Aaron Greenberg delve into a very different, and certainly complicated sort of triangle, as relayed from China:
So, 22 Haitians and a Jew fly into Beijing. The Jew is me. The 22 Haitians are not. The two of them I know are Ti Robert and Marie Lynne. I know them because they are my best friend Cecille's parents. Cici's name is on all my hotel reservations for the trip. Our tour guide, Buddy Sun, when he takes attendance at the airport, says "Cici", and I have to raise my hand and say, "Here." He suspects nothing.Read "China" >>
3. Clayton Violand, also a contributing photographer, takes us from Alaska to Beijing to Belgrade to Para Cruz, in a spiritual journey of sorts:
During the winter months of November and December people living above the Arctic Circle's southern boundary are deprived of sunlight entirely. Each year the citizens of northern Alaska wait for a day in mid-November when the sun must inevitably sink to bed; it will retreat back beyond the horizon line as in the closing to a dramatic filmThoughts After Alaska >>
Go to Fiction >>