Fiction

The Boy of Summer

Skin hot, still smelling of coconut long after the sun went down, bronze and golden with youth and the certainty that nothing will change. Walking like no one was looking, but sure that everyone was mesmerized by our hips; the men driving slowly in cars, the boys on...

Beginnings

In the beginning, dad left and mom hung herself from the rafters.  And even though he was gone and she was gone, he was not really gone and she was not really gone. And as I bounced from home to home and school to school and family to family, he was always...

“Swipe Right”

I was picking a therapist. Sue slid a chair close to mine and looked at the screen with me. “Ooh, it’s like dating,” she said. The therapists have headshots you click on. “Very funny.”  Sue had caught me pouring  bourbon into coffee.  “Really? It’s nine...

Writer’s Jeopardy

Alex, out of the hospital with his cancer diagnosis, was standing holding the IV pole with one hand and maybe questions and answers in the other. I was one of three writers and back for my second day as returning champion. My mother was sitting in a chair off to the...

Return Journey

Two a.m. and the wheels crunching the gravel comfort me. I sink into the pillow and savour the soothing rhythmic rolling of the stones.            Six days ago I called the cops. Again the next day. They were not...

About The Types

I This part of the story should be set in Times New Roman, a typeface designed by the draftsman Victor Lardent, under the direction of the typographer Stanley Morison and named after The Times newspaper, for which it was commissioned. Matilde had never heard of...

We knew she’d become a stranger

by the way she’d twirl in that new dress with the colors of a lost sunset across the shimmering corn fields. We knew she’d become a stranger by the way she’d look right at the camera, never smiling, but her eyes danced on the molten flash, a secret slowly revealed....

Rope

I learned of Josh’s suicide from a comment on someone else’s post. Shane and I were in bed watching that Hitchcock film with no cuts.“What?” Shane said.“My ex killed himself.”I went outside before he could respond and called Dignan, the mutual friend I still had with...

Walk on the Wild Side

The small house where I once lived and no longer visited had a fire ant problem. Instead of calling an exterminator or buying Raid like normal human beings, my progressive family decided the most viable solution was to purchase an anteater off the internet. After much...

Alternate Holidays and Weekends

The gingerbread house sat upon the dining room table, the only vestige of holiday cheer. Without her children for Christmas this year, Elf on the Shelf and Treetop Angel remained boxed away in the attic. Sometimes she could hear them through the air vents whispering...

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