Stories tagged fiction

She Kept A Lookout

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Many years later, as the smell of charring straw filled the basket she was standing in, high above faces turned upwards to watch her fly, she remembered the night her fingertips brushed snow off the Alps.

Eggman

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The last one I tipped over the edge was just like all the others: fragile, pale, humming to himself as he sat on the ledge overlooking the gardens.

Spotty Behavior

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"I knew when I married you I would have to do this one day," the man said into his cellphone. I had seen the man at the gas pumps, breathing heavily as if he was struggling with a heavy weight. He was loading three large red 5 gallon plastic contain

Night Flight

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He didn’t even have the energy to tell me to tie her up when he got home.

Weather Forecasting

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By the time the forked tongue of the flag extended flat like it was pressed between two of my thick volumes on weather forecasting, the man was still walking with his nose glued to the ground.

Tarot

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I am the boy with the olive skin who takes pictures of lewd sex acts performed by nobodies on stage at the Rock Creek Lodge Testicle Festival in Missoula, Montana.

Gone to Seed

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The careful paths of larger versions gave me enough time to think, to sense their fears from pauses between footsteps, and prepare those minutes, hours, weeks before they decomposed into my whole.

Refugio

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The boy curls beneath a plastic tarp until the truck stops in a depression of rock, hidden from the border's many eyes.

April Wheeler

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Where am I? The void between life and death. The light at the end is flickering, not as bright nor as strong as I’d hope it would be.

Where Is Daddy?

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He checks the bedrooms first, then the hallway, followed by the living room and the bathrooms. When he can't find you he takes to calling out, daddy, I'm sure the neighbors hear.

Svalbard

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there is a vault in the mountains / that in itself contains infinite vaults

CRITERIA

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“I’ve gotta take a break from this,” Hector said. “I’m not feeling inspired right now. I’ve added about a thousand words. Why don’t you look it over and put your changes in?” “I can do that,” said Martin. “Impressive! That brings us up to nearly sevent

The Black Madonna

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They say I am filthy. On this high pillar I perch like a stuffed avian relic, flightless, no prey. The horizon before me is broken by scuff and foreign tongue, by atomized evil. Pleas, and there are many, are answered by the only prayer I know, the one prayer, which…

Wash That Man

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The washing machine at home was broken. It was an old leaky Maytag. A discouraging mess—twisted panties, sky-blue jeans, and an old lover or two or three floating downstream (the reverse of spawning salmon). Each man was slightly drowned,…

My Alice

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My story begins where so many have ended, strapped fast to a cold table, just moments from a lobotomy needle and anything resembling the man that I am.