Stories tagged fiction

Saturday Night at the Yeti Fight

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“What part of ‘only bettors can watch the Yeti fight’ do you not understand?!”, he yelled. “Either place a bet or get the hell out of here!” I begrudgingly gave him all of the money I had on me, about two hundred, and placed it on Demonio B

Zombicil

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I’m told it hurts. It hurts more than anyone ever thought it would. Every light in the room blinds you. Every sound in the room deafens you. The pain is excruciating as muscles and nerves that aren’t meant to work anymore are forced back to life i

Ghosts

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She noticed the bony claws protruding from under the tattered cloak, the sagging ectoplasm that seemed to drip from the specter's gaseous mouth.

The Legs

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In Chinatown, we found a restaurant serving all-you-can-eat frog legs for $7.99.

Losing Found Things

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What I loved most about Miranda, her freedom. I always knew the price. She's more than the frail, silky web of her put-together flaws, too beautiful to be human, really; a vaporous ghost that turns to dust when you get too close. You can't hug a butterfly

Life of the Mind

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Days went by as I stood in the woods waiting for a tree to fall, and when none did, I determined the universe is cold and indifferent and that man’s only hope is to buy wood chippers.

Flossie’s Bordello and Bar-B-Q Shack

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The women of Bixby, Texas, united in their frustration and general thirst for arson, cheered as Flossie’s Bordello and Bar-B-Q Shack burned to the ground.

Anaphylaxis

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The reaction had started, the hives and respiratory swelling. Maddy huffed for air, each inhalation rattling her throat louder, more hoarse.

The Damned Thing Out

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Something was there. It was undeniable, and he turned to face the padre, whose eyes were now clenched shut. Without asking for further permission, he moved his hand in-between the intestines, which felt like curtains of tightly—wound chorizos. Suddenly

The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, Chapter 4

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I put on my one suit to impress the landlord. I made up a story that I was a trust-funder and Allison was my newly-wed wife and we had just arrived in California to start a relaxed life of luxury and yachting. We didn’t need to work because of this stea

The Sound of Barcelona

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There’s no obvious difference between two years ago and now but it’s not the moment to contemplate the reason for the racket or why it took so long. Instead, it’s the time to renounce atheism and thank God that the noise has finally finished

A Christmas Spaghetti

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"Hmm. What did you call these again?" Reaching into the musty, wrinkled, cardboard box he pulled out a sample. Tiny Christmas lights on green cord with crumpled strands of interspersed silver tinsel hung like so much seaweed from his hand. "Fairy-

...anything but love...

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"Take a chance, Bill," she said, "Like Eddie across the hall did. Tess told me he marched right into his boss and demanded a raise. He pointed out how much they needed him and they gave him twenty-five dollars more a week.

Free At Last

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And how was it? that God had seen fit to give such funny hands to the enemy. Heavy and strong, their pinch threatening, the boy recalled how the crab held them high. On hands and knees he took another careful peek under the tilted bucket to satisfy himsel

How The Sixties Ended: or, The Great San Francisco Poetry Wars, 2

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While we were drinking that warm beer from Golden, Colorado, a girlfriend of Allison’s strode into the house, saying, “Okay, Janov, tomorrow’s your trial. So, what are we going to do about it?” Everybody called this girl Creamcheese. “Your tr