Section » Fiction
Mullins by Robert Sachs
Mullins motioned me over. In public, I was always expected to come to him; self-conscious about his limp, no doubt, but also it was important for him to be seen as exercising control over others. “Sir?” “Fire,” he said, pointing out the window. His eyes were as wide as the ocean we had been crossing for the last six hours. It did appear that
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Just Like Egg Whites by Nicole Wolverton
“When are you going to give me a grandchild?” Aaron’s mother’s voice is demanding, too loud. It pricks at Ann’s eardrums, making her want to dig them out with a sharpened spork. And is she really asking her this? Too hot heat creeps up her neck and across her cheeks. Margie apparently wants
Portrait of a Wife by Kelly Konesheck
Daniel stays with me on Wednesday nights. I kind of dread these evenings because it means he will huff and puff on top of me for a little while and then pass out and snore for the rest of the night and I’ll never get any sleep. "Top
Minuit, Like Clockwork by Haley A. Steinberg
They dressed up for the dinner party, each one following a routine to their own rhythm of rock and roll, that bluesy French undertone skimming along the hums of their voices as night blanketed the city in midnight hues. The apartment was dark, except for a string of white Christmas lights half-heartedly
The Elevator by Ke Huang
“Water well, cloth… knife!” I said louder than Filipe. That’s how I translate our game, but most English-speakers know it as Rock/Paper/Scissors. It was one of the only Chinese expressions I kept after living in Portugal for half of my life. The fountain in the park facing the
Must Be Like Dying by William J. Fedigan
-Must be like dying, Jimmy thinks, feels good. Jimmy likes being put under. Mask over face. Smells rubber, tastes rubber. Last couple seconds, floating, then numb, sparkles of soft light. Peace. -Like dying, Jimmy thinks. Jimmy’s put under 3 times week, electric shock 3 times week. Brain fried 3 times
I Loved Him by William L. Alton
He said he loved me and touched me. He took me to rodeos and carnivals and rides in the woods. He sneaked little kisses in the cab of his truck. He gave me a belt with my name stamped on the back of it. It had a leather covered buckle with a bucking horse and cowboy. I was his favorite. The heat wrapped
Postcards From the End of the World by Michael Crane
Crap Dear Shirley Temple with the pot-plant-pilfering eyes. "Shirley Temple" (image posted by Flickr user Dr. Case) I have been a nurse at the hospital for many years and you know that I never talk about my work, but one of
Twilight of the GOP – The Breaking Dawn of a Palin 2012 by Michael Saul
Sarah Palin and Stephenie Meyer both had books come out in 2010. But what happens when the eloquent wordsmiths behind The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner and America by Heart: Reflections on Family, Faith, and Flag meet backstage on the press tour circuit and get to talking? They discover that they
Scavengers by Tyler King
You see? They’re always watching and always listening, just out of the corner of your eye, hungrily waiting for some stray quirk to fall off your body like sloughed-off dead skin. They are solitary scavengers. Your favorite café you go to on Sundays before church? The park where you walk your dog?
