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Thomas L. Strickland

Thomas L. Strickland is a Southern transplant living in New York City. His work has appeared on Catapult and he’s read a couple things in public. He makes his living in Experience Design.
Georgia roads are made for rolled-down windows, for the glare of summer bouncing off a windshield, for tape decks in a sun-cracked dashboard. When I was in high school, back when first I knew people my own age who drove their own cars, there was a rule about accepting a ride. Always look in the center console or the glove box. Count the cassette tapes. If you found more Lynyrd Skynyrd than Allman Brothers,...
There was a vibrating, menacing metal box on a concrete slab behind my parents’ house. It hummed all summer long, hiding an electric motor spinning giant metal blades. If I stepped too close, an uncomfortable heat found my face, kept me away. It doesn’t want company. The box was busy conditioning the air. It was late into the summer when I was eleven when our air conditioning failed, the one and only time it ever did....