Stories tagged fiction

March for Me

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A son packs his bag - bottled water, extra masks, and jerky. Mom paces behind him. “Don't go.”

A Clean Tent

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“No,” he says. A simple lie. “I -” He pushes the sleeping bag off of his legs. Their getaway reset was a mistake.

Full

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The trash is full. Again. I open the bathroom trash—because the diaper genie is stuffed—but there’s no room. I try the kitchen next. The lid swings open, catapulting carrot shavings onto the floor. I lay the diaper on the counter for later.

Code 33M at the White Front Store

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“Attention, Shoppers,” the loudspeaker announced. “Yes, it’s that time of the month and Moonlight Madness has officially begun.” The manager of toys came sprinting into the warehouse behind the store. He wa

More About Nils Whose Real Name is Georges

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I think he viewed Communion as an act of hygiene that allowed him to go on being fiery and self-determined.

Return to the Nudist Camp

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I know you probably don’t want to hear any more of this nudist stuff about my family and all, but this Reamer guy was a red-faced German boozehound if there ever was one. He married my brother’s ex-wife Beryl, after Harris left her to her cheap red jug wi

The Girl with the Ice-Cream Cone

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The girl in the painting with the ice-cream cone looks like Paul’s first love. That’s the real reason he agreed to buy it. In fact, he and his wife always call it: The Girl with the Ice-Cream Cone. He can’t take his eyes off that painting. “He loves h

Main Street

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You know when you see the flashing blue lights in your rearview mirror that you're not being pulled over because of a busted taillight or carelessly doing fifty in a thirty-five mile an hour school zone; your crime is being a Black man behind the wheel. It happens often…

The Story

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So, here’s the story. It was a Sunday in late April. I had an appointment with a girl named Carrie to show her a few houses. When I first saw her sitting in the chair next to the receptionist's desk, we looked at each other, and I think we both knew ins

The Story

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So, here’s the story. It was a Sunday in late April. I had an appointment with a girl named Carrie to show her a few houses. When I first saw her sitting in the chair next to the receptionist's desk, we looked at each other, an

Short-Short Story. Very Short. Really, Very Short

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First off, I should tell you There were 1300 buttons Down the front of my shirt The end. See? I told you so

The Story

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So, here’s the story. It was a Sunday in late April. I had an appointment with a girl named Carrie to show her a few houses. When I first saw her sitting in the chair next to the receptionist's desk, we looked at each other, and I think we both knew ins