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Category: Fiction

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The Ghost Sex

Reliving what could have been.

by Samuel Bollen on October 12, 2015October 12, 2015

No Dogs, Just Days

Billy was a boy who had liked my sister the summer she graduated from high school. He took her to eat ice cream and see movies about dolphins which she described as “fascinating.” Katy stopped caring about things after she … Read More

by Lavinia Liang on October 4, 2015October 5, 2015

Le Lapin

Ruth is anxious to meet baby sister. Yet a chance encounter with a strange magician and his rabbit render the future anything but predictable.

by Carolyn Kelly on August 11, 2015August 11, 2015

Run

Exercise—the thesis research of the future.

by Joy Chen on May 4, 2015

Amsterdam

Coming home from the city of sin and freedom.

by Maddy Pauchet on April 19, 2015April 19, 2015

This Glass Box

My mother is known for throwing lavish parties and not wearing underwear. We have morning glories that crawl up our living room pillars.

by Lydia Weintraub on April 12, 2015April 18, 2015

Feelies

My mother and I returned to the Tucson art museum because Rose Cabat’s daughter told us over the phone that the museum was selling Feelies not featured in the retrospective.

by Lydia Weintraub on February 21, 2015June 10, 2015

Lost

Do love like jobs, that’s what I say.

by Jared Garland on February 7, 2015February 8, 2015

Sol in the Evening

The sky looked like a bowl of discarded mussel shells. Tom thought this must have been the kind of dusk his grandfather fought and died under.

by Evan Coles on November 8, 2014November 9, 2014

A Short and False History of Bowling

The wind in the west blows across the Sioux prairieland, bending the wheat stalks at their waists. Nelson Elling lies beneath the swaying stalks, and from where he’s sprawled the wheat fields are dusted in a purpling haze.

by Rachel Stone on October 18, 2014July 21, 2017

Pandora Speaks

Who would have given a damn about me if not for that box?

As punishment for Prometheus’ gift of fire, the gods gave me to men. They gave me to men. I was a poisoned gift. But the importance of a poisoned gift is the venom it bears, not the gift. The box, not Pandora.

by Emily Lever on October 11, 2014October 12, 2014

Freudian Encounters

Martha Levinson lived with her two small dogs in a Victorian house, high on a hill in the Berkshires. She was long-divorced from her ex-husband and had two grown children, Claire and Philip, who lived in New York and Los Angeles. In her old age her almond eyes had become watery and caked with eyeliner, and she had resigned her chestnut hair to an eternally frizzy nest.

by Cleo Patrick on April 26, 2014July 5, 2014


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