Fiction

Anabel is a writer, a book person, a lover of history, and though this chemistry class—even the word “chemistry” intimidates— is for non-science majors, she is forced to sit in this huge auditorium and listen to lectures without a Bunsen burner or beaker in sight. She...

So, a priest, a minister, and a rabbi walk into a bar. They drink alcohol in moderation and share a platter of antipasto and crostini. One of the three friends (it doesn't matter who) eats two pickled eggs. One of the three friends (it doesn’t matter who; however, it...

“… and the Tree was happy.” Nadine snapped the book shut. “The Tree was also dead as shit. What a fucking crock.” Pauline clapped her hands over her mouth and giggled. Juliet tried to suppress a smile. “You’re not supposed to use those words around us.” Gudrun...

Animal hoarder Aunt Cleo’s house is a blast, now that she’s dead. Sandra and I lace our fingers together and stroll from room to room. Free zoo! Nobody hassles us to move along, to leave the premises for picking up the orange snake, to pay a dollar to feed the ducks....

     The man and the woman sitting on the rocks are at odds with one another, I can sense it in their body language. Perched on the jagged embankment overlooking the lake, the small space between them is as big as the forest. Her back is hunched...

Sophie is 6 years old, and she’s running out of ideas. But she knows how to concentrate. She raises her eyebrows, lowers the corners of her mouth, and holds. It is uncomfortable, but necessary. “Sophie,” her mother laughs, looking up. “What’s with the face?” “It’s my...

Elizabeth is stretched out on a zebra crossing, deaf to the orchestra of honks.          If Helmut could see her now, would he be worried?          First time Elizabeth’s knees buckled she...

This time, the father parks his truck in the shade.             “I’ll just be a few minutes,” he tells the girl. “When I’m done, we’ll go to the park.” He squeezes her shoulder and hands her a box of Junior Mints....

In the summer we were given the gift of living far north. This meant more light. As a kid, I was very aware of the daily weather. Each morning I would call the weather hotline. It rained a lot where we lived, so the weather determined the course of our days. A full 60...

It's just a small cloth bag with a zipper that no longer zips. Teal, gray-blue, blue-green—even cranberry—small chevrons in white. A navy rhombus holds a smaller red rhombus, clean lines, sharp angles in space. You know it’s Guatemalan because you checked the tag, a...