John Schafer

John Schafer is a writer and actor who was born and raised on the North Side of Chicago. He was a member of the Latino Chicago Theater Company and earned a degree from Illinois State University. As an actor he has appeared in a number of films and television shows. His screenplays for The Unconcerned and Bruised Orange have been produced. His short stories and essays have appeared in Guernica, Amor Fati, Medium, Short Story, The Kiss (WW Norton 2018), Palooka, Tangent, The Ponder Review and The Writers Compass among many others. He lives in Northern Virginia.

Ridin’ Dirty

He tightened the half-inch screw into the wooden floor of the truck. It held the false front in place. The last two screws would wait on the Chinamen. He reached up and grabbed one of the wooden slates that ran the length of the Penske’s interior wall and pulled himself up; it bowed, but with a boost from his legs he was vertical before it gave. He walked back to the end of the truck and stepped onto the lift gate. He peered back in. No way you could tell. They would have to get in and they never did.

Long Short Story

Issue 63, July 2022

John Schafer

John Schafer is a writer and actor who was born and raised on the North Side of Chicago. He was a member of the Latino Chicago Theater Company and earned a degree from Illinois State University. As an actor he has appeared in a number of films and television shows. His screenplays for The Unconcerned and Bruised Orange have been produced. His short stories and essays have appeared in Guernica, Amor Fati, Medium, Short Story, The Kiss (WW Norton 2018), Palooka, Tangent, The Ponder Review and The Writers Compass among many others. He lives in Northern Virginia.

Ridin’ Dirty

He tightened the half-inch screw into the wooden floor of the truck. It held the false front in place. The last two screws would wait on the Chinamen. He reached up and grabbed one of the wooden slates that ran the length of the Penske’s interior wall and pulled himself up; it bowed, but with a boost from his legs he was vertical before it gave. He walked back to the end of the truck and stepped onto the lift gate. He peered back in. No way you could tell. They would have to get in and they never did.

Long Short Story

Issue 63, July 2022

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