Stories tagged fiction

A Jeep Wrangler, a moped, a bank bag, Woody Guthrie and stained teeth

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A bank bag now hung from those teeth—yellow-gray rancid, decaying teeth, strands of tobacco chew laced in between. Those thin pen mark lips could not hide the teeth’s keyhole spaces, shaped by open cavities—the bank bag hung from those teeth. The me

The Blue Whale

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The blue whale in the bathtub weighed 100 tons and wore a grin like the Cheshire cat on steroids. Her smile stretched from wall to wall. Her blowhole scraped the ceiling. Sam never learned how she crammed her tail down into the drainpipe, but she sure

Like An Endless Rain

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Fate could have sent me any number of Sergeant-Detectives, but fate sent me one of Boston’s finest, Sergeant-Detective Sheila Magnuson. Aside from being a little undernourished Sheila Magnuson is possibly the world’s most beautiful Sergeant-Detective.

My Son Thinks He's French

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My son thinks he's French.His accent was cute at first, but it's starting to get on my nerves. If he asks for another glass of Beaujolais I'm gonna go to jail for child abuse.Yesterday, I walked upstairs to make him turn his new Jacques Brel album down and I swear it…

Dream Life (flash friday)

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Virginia hated herself for every moment she spent wondering what it would have been like if things had been different. How would her life be if Glen hadn’t been misdiagnosed, if he hadn’t died when she was a year married and four months pregnant? Not

Barns And Ignobles

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None of us in the barn knew what to do about the lowing cows. Their slowly rising complaint started off as a half-hearted protest but soon gained in volume and unsettling portent.

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Obviously, this pig did not believe that she was a pig. She was sure she was a pet, or at the very least, in charge, which made her a big, fat problem. After a few tries, Mitch finally got the business end of the rope around her neck. He pulled with all h

Mr. Pigglesworth's Funeral

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I light a match and get to think­ing about Bobby and what stom­ach can­cer looks like on a petri dish. Then I think of a sev­enth grade biol­ogy lab where we char­ac­ter­ized amoeba through a micro­scope and my friend drew her amoeba with a smi

Losing Found Things

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Somewhere in the mass of sweat and Prada and lies Miranda wiggles and glimmers like bait, licking her lips and dancing with half-naked gays, both of us remembering better days.

Our Costume Is a Kiss

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I'm waiting in line for the only bathroom in this bar while my mother is dying somewhere. I don't know where. I have to piss really bad. An obese Cinderella is in front of me and a zombie with ample…

Magnificent Pigs

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I retrieved the book from the middle of the room and set it in front of her. "Look," I said. "If we open the book up again at the beginning, Charlotte's alive. She'll always be alive in the book."


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Dozens of candles still burned in red glass votives next to a window on the west wall. These lit a glow into the portraiture of the nativity etched into the stained glass.

There Is Nothing Left To Do But Care

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He was the kind of cat who began lifting weights in the fourth grade.

My Affair With Tiger

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Face it girls, you want to claw my eyes out, don’t you? Or whack me across my 36 DD’s with a golf club, am I right? Well don’t blame me if I’m young, gorgeous, full-breasted and obviously the cat’s meow.

Who Will Carry Us?

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1. People avoided Mac, the Great White Hunter, which was how he liked to think of himself, even though he was not white. Mac was cocoa colored and stalked his prey nearly nude. The city was his…