Category: Fiction

When they come, hold your hands above your head, don't look them in the eye, and don’t spit on their
Read More

Isaac was in love with his T-shirt. It was pure, breathable cotton, size L, with sleeves that hit just below
Read More

One by one, Kate picks up photographs from the piles of mostly black-and-white shots strewn around her on her parents’
Read More

You stand near the arboretum gate, your hip against the ornamental rock etched with the resonant words of a conservationist.
Read More

For a couple of years I didn’t use the rope. It was one of those revenge presents. My relationship with
Read More

It’s been eighteen, nineteen years. I triangulate my way around unnamed streets and pass by the noodle shop, a police
Read More

At the bakalah, I part the heavy plastic that covers the doorway, and aiming a Salamalakum in the direction of
Read More

Jan Lechoń and his lover lie side by side, like two question marks, on a bed of saffron sheets. Jan
Read More

1. Kitchen Items Pots and pans. Mugs. Beer glasses from various bars across the country. Matching plates and bowls with
Read More

-“Beauty has a strangeness”-- Linda Gregg, from her poem, “Fragments” Mottled, veins afloat, shadows flicker, the lid dips, and resists,
Read More

And so Natalie came to see sleep as the solution. It made her feel like barfing a little, like the
Read More

I leave the store after a small, middle-aged domestic thrill: A good deal on bathroom rugs ($14.99 for two). As
Read More

Kind of square, kind of squat—that’s how she perceives herself. Compact—each part of her body a modest excrescence kept
Read More

We first saw her on that mini-season of the Real World that only ran on MTV3. The one in
Read More

My mother is fat. She is not plump. She’s not heavy or stout, slovenly or rotund. Just fat. A
Read More

Giving his spouse carte blanche in matters of interior decoration had year in and year out proven to
Read More

The smiling man at the coffee bar is attentive and careful as he pours pumpkin spice flavored coffee. But
Read More

My uncle Ivan was a communist. He said if we’d read the books he’d read, we’d all be communists.

Read More

Paul didn’t stir when Sheila got up or when she found Matt asleep in the hallway. It was
Read More

The single dead bulb in the garage rattled as the blizzard tore its nails against the siding. Colton
Read More

On Saturday morning, 12/21/63, a date with no prime number unless you count the 2 in 12, the 2
Read More

When my wife of these last thirty-nine years kicked me out of the house and I quoth "for being
Read More

I wonder what my father thought of himself after he left, given the one rule he emphasized the most
Read More

If I was a different kind of girl my face would be on every tabloid. Every evening news story,
Read More

March 14, 1983

Dear Sir or Madam:

Forgive the vague salutation. I could not
Read More