1579 8 7
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Cat fight. I rush outside and swinging my trusty broom I charge the rolling yowling ball of black fur.
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157966
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The Misses Moses by Brad Watson from Aliens in the Prime of Their Lives The Moses sisters lived together, alone, in the fine old brick house near downtown where they…
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157921
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A look flashed across his face as if someone had hooked up his genitals to a car battery.
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157965
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With each step, that cold hand steals ever upward.
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157953
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I sat at the kitchen counter, aware of a heaviness, a numbness, in my flesh, my bones, my mind. My dancer's body -- short, trim and 108 pounds -- felt as huge and unmoving as the…
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157900
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"Look at the grime on those curtains. Not fit for an Emperor. Pull them down. Put up fresh new ones. Not a spot."
"Oh! Look at this throne. All uneven legs. The gems are not shining. The gold looks dull. Fix it, fix it, fix it!"
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157800
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The moon hung in the sky, round and pale, under cover of some wispy clouds.
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157865
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This writers' conference (sponsored by VQR, which had run its banner ad atop the Fictionaut home page in the summer of 2014, which begins to explain both my attendance and this essay) revealed itself as an apt subject . . .
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157800
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A woman is fishing in the Seine at the far left
of the painting, while time is suspended and light
remains. One man plays a trumpet. A half dozen
people sit or walk under parasols. Couples stroll
and children run or sit or stand beside their
p
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157820
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With a roar and short burst of flame, the dragon awoke, startled.
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1578148
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His wife had just come from the gynecologist and was toying with her French fries.
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157811
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Zorro lived in his mother’s basement until he could get back on his feet.
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15781410
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In those years,
you and I were told to leap
for a world suffused with sound
and industry.
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157821
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My buddy had been in the computer business, a systems analyst. Surely there would be some mention of him online. But there was nothing. Nothing, that is, until I saw the obituary.
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157833
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The questions we ask ourselves define who we are as a culture. “What is the meaning of life?” “Is there a God?” “Does anybody really know what time it is?” “Where the hell did I put my car keys?” To see what…
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157821
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Last night Jim taught me how to catch forks. Meaning, he taught me how to throw them. But he called it catching forks. It was late, and we were low down 3rd street, south of the Bay Bridge, the baseball stadium, all the people and cars, on top of a warehouse. There were a…
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1577169
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Have you ever spent twilight in a old pasture?
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157777
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Content may contain ordinary, everyday, and all around average happenings.
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157700
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Mayumi and her friends arrived at the beach. The sun was near setting for the night, and a few stars began an early peek in the twilit sky.
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157753
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It was midnight. I was outside the cottage, digging another row of star-shaped holes for the shrubbery.
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157701
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As the four flew beside each other, they shared their stories and got to know one another. Soon they learned from the voice what was happening.
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157770
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He came running out of his narrow little shop, Berthillon
and chased me down the Ilse St. Louis street, saying,
“Monsieur, Monsieur, nous avon pamplemousse!
It’s ici, Monsieur. Your pamplemousse.
They just come in this matin, morning
and I’
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1577129
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She said, “I think I’m pregnant,” but I thought that the sidewalk looked cleaner than usual,
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157720
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She dips a toothpick in ink, running prick over paper, simply to prove herself wrong.
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157730
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Theresa Esposito woke to the smell of pignoli cookies baking. The sweet scent made her stomach rumble. She was ten-years-old today. And she felt ten. Her hair, her ears, her eyes, her toes — everything felt ten.
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157711
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“It felt like the space under my skin had been filled with desert sand. I did not open my eyes for my body was covered with the dust. A camel could have walked over me and not noticed. I needed to wipe my eyes before I could open them and my body was froz
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157765
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When I first started out in my working career, I made it the habit of obtaining jobs with companies that were about to go under. (I wrote more books while on unemployment than by any other method.) I was a real bloodhound at sniffing out the pre-dawn od
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157700
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Still as the knife on the counter there still. Like mothballs in a chest. One with clear bags and newspaper clippings and your scarf inside it. The baby girl could put a mothball in her mouth and suck it like a penny. The way too close to a light bulb bur
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15771612
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He was losing his fight with
malaria, but you would never
know it from his dreams
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