Fiction | October 21, 2016
The Oracle of Denny’s
Gabe Herron
After two pitchers of IPA, my friend, Old Rob, would say things like, “The existence of the ‘self’ is so highly unlikely that it makes any debate over the existence of the ‘soul’ absolutely fucking preposterous.” This was before Old Rob fell off the climbing wall at our rock gym. As a founding member, he often let himself in after hours to free climb, which was against every rule in the rule book he’d helped to write.
That was Old Rob.
The day porter found him in the morning.
He was spread-eagled, soaked in his own puddles.
I found out about it on Twitter.
This story is not currently available online.
If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.
Want to read more?
Subscribe TodaySEE THE ISSUE
SUGGESTED CONTENT
Editors' Prize Winner
Apr 16 2024
Invasive Species
Invasive Species We couldn’t decide between killing lionfish or common starlings. Harry voted for lionfish because spearfishing them would require a trip to Florida, a place on the map contrary… read more
Fiction
Apr 16 2024
The Regal Azul
The Regal Azul They were somewhere over the Atlantic, south of the Grand Bahama, but beyond that, Lang couldn’t say. This absurd cruise ship, outfitted with every form of entertainment… read more
Fiction
Apr 16 2024
Semicolon People
Semicolon People If I spent four years in medical school, I’d want people to address me as “Doctor,” so I call my new psychiatrist “Dr. Reagan” even though my friend… read more