Fiction

It was early Valentine’s Day morning when the first one washed up dead near Bridgend. By 10am there was a crowd around...

I want a yoga instructor with boobs. Real boobs, not those piss-poor B cups; not even C or D will do, although that’s progress …

It happened during the sweltering summer that they lived out of town, the summer of the white Ford station wagon’s inevitable demise…

The day I caught my twin sister Eliza kissing Danny Quinn, I never stopped to think they had a secret. Is that how the kiss felt to her? Like she already knew they were both gay?

Betty never thought food would be important. She never thought about food at all, certainly not about cooking it. Since leaving home, she ate most meals in the way she liked best: with a book or magazine on the table…

Date entry: Sunday, July 12, 1970
I’m coping by writing these notes. I got the idea from Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Notes from the Underground that was assigned in my AP English class during my last semester of high school.

It’s easy to get used to certain things, like aching shoulders and a sense of floating outside your life, looking down…

The burly sheriff, pressed uniform the color of gravy, knocks on the frame of the tattered screen door…

“When I desire you a part of me is gone…” Anne Carson, Eros the Bittersweet

They drove all day without any music, leaving the Finger Lakes in Sam’s old Honda just ahead of a snowstorm that would close the schools and the airport’s two gates

“Jen, will you spray my mouth?”

“Coming.” Jen stopped scrubbing a pot, dried her hands, and walked into the bedroom.

They ran out of milk three days ago. Looking into the refrigerator for an alternative, Nora saw a white and green carton of orange juice sitting nearly alone …