Category: Fiction

Arm and a Leg

My little sister has this disease that makes all of her limbs fall off.

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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.

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Teeth

“He said something, but I couldn’t hear what. His face started to blur. Warm face, I heard my thoughts say. Warm face.”

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The Embargo

When I was fifteen, when my hair was growing down past my collar and my face was fixed into a jaded smirk, Mom and Dad decided it was time to get out. Out of the city; out of sinful, glorious … Read More

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Womb

“The voice shifts subtly, almost as if it’s mimicking my own.”

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On Memories, the Olfactory, and Untimely Death

Minutes before death, a writer reflects upon his life in smells.

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Hey, Sweet Annie

“He closed his eyes. Should he be praying right now? He wasn’t sure. He forgot to think about this part.”

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A Banlieue Dance

A portrait of the Saint-Denis suburb of Paris, as told through a pickpocketing.

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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.

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Lester in Love

I: For a neurotic weenie you sure seem to be a man of action.
L: Yeah, well sometimes.

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Psych Ward Memoirs

When I catch sight of my stitches in periphery, I think they are hairs growing out of my wrist, like black wiry hairs growing out of a mole or on the jaw lines of women. Then I think of Marie, … Read More

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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

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