Best Stories

The "Best Stories" collection is a set of the greatest short fiction and performances featured on the Way of the Buffalo podcast.  CD's are not currently available online, but can be purchased at public appearances and through special arrangement with the editor.

Volume One

"The Instructions"
Written by Amanda C. Davis
Read by Christopher Munroe
Originally  appeared in Episode27

"The Perfect Marriage"
Written by Christopher Munroe
Read by Hugh J. O'Donnell
Originally appeared in Episode 24

"We Figure the Leaves"
Written by Kristine Ong Muslim
Read by Renee Chambliss
Originally appeared in Episode 26

"The Man in the Brown Coat'
Written by Julia Scott-Douglas
Read by Laura Diemer
Originally appeared in Episode 25

"At the Beach"
Written by William Meikle
Read by Mick Bordet, with Sarah Diemer
Originally appeared in Episode 16

"The Dark Wife:  Before"
Written by Sarah Diemer
Read by Veronica Giguere
Originally appeared in Episode20

Volume Two

Coming soon.

1 comment:

  1. I liked Deitrich Kalteis’s story, “First day is Hell,” But, I’d like it even more if the whole thing had been told as pulp. And I don’t mean orange. I’m talking the blackest of noir, with all the beautiful metaphors that dangle like sexy participles in the sentence of a reader’s soul.

    What if, for instance, he’d suffered all that first day without a sale…

    "…Made the brew taste like creep-sludge. The sun was going down like a swimmer on his last breath. And that was me, too, taking in one last gulp of air before my sales day ended emptier than a can of beans thrown into the bushes of a hobo shantytown. I stared listlessly out the window and just as I began to wonder what I was doing there I saw a spark strike against the yellow of the sport’s car balancing just outside the glass. The light flickered and glowed yellow, as if it were picked directly off the car, swinging up to her face with the speed of an executioner’s axe. This was too good to be true. A bombshell hiding behind a barely lit cigarette. Her blonde hair cascading down around those perfectly carved cheeks and piercing blue eyes. A leopard skin shawl crawling over a barely painted on black blouse, Glittering semi-precious jewels ensnaring her throat and pumps with spiked heels digging into the tire as she leaned against the car door. Her face shined briefly in the cold, hard light, then disappeared again, slipping into the darkness of her own thoughts. I caught her perfume right through the showroom’s plate glass. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had just walked off the set of a Clark Gable or Dorothy Lamour movie. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were Dorothy Lamour.
    I pitched the tepid sludge into the trashcan, watching her check her lipstick in the sideview as she pressed her lips together. I couldn’t let that putz, Joey, steal my last chance at a sale today. I pushed past him before he realized what was going on. I stepped outside ready to introduce myself, only to fear that I was already in over my head. She leaned against the car door drawing small lines with her finger along the car’s window. When she saw me, her foot kicked out across the rocker panel like a rocket finding it’s trajectory in the atmosphere…”