The Lives of Alligators by Robert Kloss art by William Warby Always your family locked the doors for alligators. Your family locked the front doors and back doors and the porch screen doors for alligators hissing along the gutters of the streets. Your father propped chairs against the basement door and leaned against the front door with a mud-grayed shovel. Your father lost his job and collected unemployment for those weeks spent against the door with bloodshot eyes. With a drawn gray face he made you fetch drinks from the stock above the refrigerator. "A given alligator may live a billion billion years," your father would postulate, "so why should a man die by age 75?" How your father trembled for the scratching, when sober or seeming sober. His old haunted gaze. How the collie dog moaned from some darkened corner. How your mother wept at the occasional bursts of gunfire in the neighborhood. The squealing of truck tires, the tin thunk of alligator corpses against the flatbed. Your family watched from second story windows as alligators crept from the sewers and the leather factories. Your family watched from second story windows as alligators devoured flower beds and dog houses and crunched the bones and snouts of dogs in the doghouses and swallowed with a terrible suddenness the old women who stooped to pull weeds in their flannel nightgowns, the old women who had not heard the emergency broadcasts or the tornado sirens. Into the evenings, the hoarse screams of old women echoed within the dank bellies of alligators. And in the black night how the yellow eyes of alligators trailed like fireflies along the lawns while your father slept against the backdoor. The whisky bottle on his lap and his fat slick lips glazed with booze. How he did not know the long off howling of neighborhood dogs devoured, for the sounds of his snores. At bursts of shotguns and rifles in the streets your father would say, "to a kill an alligator one must shoot the back of its skull, but I have known many good men killed with shots to" and he absently touched various areas of his throat, chest, arms, abdomen, face. Your family kept the doors locked for the alligators and through the days your father pressed his ear against the cellar door and listened with chest throbbing. You did not know if you heard the hissing of alligators for the wheeze of your father's ragged breaths. Read the interview. Robert Kloss has known the valley of alligators. He can be found online at rkbirdsofprey.blogspot.com. William Warby earns his living as an analyst/developer for a local government authority in London. His spare time is divided unevenly between photography, software/web development, movies, XBox, and the occasional novel. You can see more of his photos on Flickr. All content in SmokeLong Quarterly copyright 2003-2012 by its authors. Issue Thirty-One (March 28, 2011): Kapha by Joanne Avallon «» Wound Glue by Michael Cooper «» Natural by Julie Draper «» Everyday There is So Much about Elephants by Timothy Gager «» Renewables by Abe Gaustad «» We Walk Away, the Three of Us by Tracy Gonzalez «» Other Sons by Casey Hannan «» The Mystery of Water by Zin Kenter «» The Lives of Alligators by Robert Kloss «» A Turkey Baster Is Just Like a Penis by Rachel Levy «» Three Bodies by Mike Meginnis «» God, Two Girls by Adeena Reitberger «» Gestures by Megan Roberts «» Moons by Ethel Rohan «» The Man with the Ridiculously Huge Coupon by Rolli «» A Walk in the Woods by Robert Schladale «» The Way We Speak Now by Angi Becker Stevens «» Interviews: Joanne Avallon «» Michael Cooper «» Julie Draper «» Timothy Gager «» Abe Gaustad «» Tracy Gonzalez «» Casey Hannan «» Zin Kenter «» Robert Kloss «» Rachel Levy «» Mike Meginnis «» Adeena Reitberger «» Megan Roberts «» Ethel Rohan «» Rolli «» Robert Schladale «» Angi Becker Stevens «» Cover Art "Lady Gaga Dada" by Marty D. Ison «» Letter From the Editors Interested in subscribing to SmokeLong's weekly newsletter? Click here. An email should be created. Send it as is, and you'll be subscribed. If the link does not work for you, send an email to imailsrv@smokelong.com with Subscribe slq-info in the body of the email (no subject is necessary). You'll receive updates detailing the release of new issues, new reading periods, contests, etc. We do not make our mail list available to anyone else.