Stories tagged depression

The Motel

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She dreamed of a beach.

Existence is Relative

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You left for the bathroom over twenty minutes ago. I started to think you're not coming back. Because who does that? Who goes into a bathroom in a restaurant and doesn't come back after twenty minutes?…

Seasonal Discord

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“I killed a man.” “Whaaattt???” I'd been meditating on the sun. I figured he was trying to jolt me awake.

Catastrophic, and Not Above Bad Puns

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I laid in the road, broken and alone, until I had no choice but to pull myself together and get out.


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This isn’t the first time he’s mentioned his cancer. Three times, he’s had it. Survived them all. He’s grateful, he says. So grateful.

Inventing Games

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As children we invent games and we're really creative. We concoct ridiculous rules and enjoy making adaptations to them. And everything makes sense. Then you grow up, lose creativity. You don't invent games anymore. Recess is replaced with a second…


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The line of the unemployed wrapped back on itself like an accordion pleat and extended all the way across a great hall You could see the faces of them, bluish and drawn under the dim florescent lighting First in line were laid-off be

End of the Century

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She’s a blue girl, a girl in blue. In the doldrums and on the dole, or soon to be.


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“Why do you cut yourself?” Remy asked her, it wasn’t an opening line he would try out there but it was a perfect in here, a place where the windows didn’t open and everyone but them had keys for their comings and goings.

Not There

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He wanted to go out and wake her, invite her back, but decided the daylight was feeding him milk-thin hope, a nourishment for fools.

This is Not the Great Depression!

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Going to the candy store at night in the section of town called Kalliope. Riding bike, trying to get there before it closed at ten. Getting candy at that little store with the glass containers and the rows and rows of candy. Getting milk there…

Before I Forget (Notes from the Oubliette)

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Are you there? It’s been so long since I had someone to talk to. Besides Oscar and Wilde, I mean. I feed them crumbs of bread. They’re my pet rats, my only friends. Besides you, of course. How kind of you to remember me! How shall I begin?


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How could you run from me now? The loneliest child in the house

Migratory Mistakes

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Unadorned tragedies pinpoint the worst angles of the road; simple crosses or bouquets line boulders painted with car crash smoke or skid marks that tiptoe to the edge of cliffs and then, apparently, leap.

Failed Restaurants

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Their specialty is the roasted Australian hare, long ears intact, arranged on a bed of sassafras.