Stories tagged kids

It's Only Natural

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I just like puppies, and slapping people.

The Saurians' Revenge

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I’ve never liked birds. There’s something smug about the way they look at us, we prisoners of gravity, something self-congratulatory in their songs. Maybe I’m just projecting my own feelings about being stuck on the ground, attributing attitudes t

Puppy Love

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That was the summer that Christine Nelson owned me. It felt like catching the flu. I had it bad. I was about to turn seven, and it was my first time, and it was bad. A love like that, I don’t know, it’s not a love supreme. It wasn’t completely cru


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I'm ten.

Watching Our Reflections on TV While We Wait

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We sat in a row on the long couch and no one's legs could reach the floor. Granddaddy took the first one the kid who no one knew and said to us "the rest of you stay put."

Just Who Does Miller Think He Is?

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This new kid on the block, named Miller, showed up out of the blue one day, while we were throwing rocks and boulders down on this flimsy gray sheet of construction plywood that was covering an open trench in front of a new house on our block. One of the

The Only Still Thing

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This morning there is one ant crawling along the window sill. It is carrying something, but I can't tell what it is. It could be a crumb, but I don't eat in my room (Mother would have a fit) and I don't know why it would take the long way around…


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Being the baby in a family forces a focused outlook on life. Not necessarily profound, not even wry, but a perspective that pushes for two things - recognition, and to be in on whatever is going on.

Two Sides

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"What if he's dead?"

no biscuits

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he’ll scream, you gotta ignore that and give it anyway. it’s his nan.

Cory's Carousel

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There was an ownership about the makeshift carnival. There was a therapy there.

a kid's guide to the art of the grift

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“We must never forget that we are children, and as children we dream, and when we dream, we dream of candy."

A Kids' Guide to the Art of the Grift

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“We must never forget that we are children, and as children we dream, and when we dream, we dream of candy."

Bus Ride

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Pretty boy looks over at me and grins, got a smoke?

The Dooleys

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Mama told me never to play with the Dooley boys. They play too rough, they’re not to be trusted, and no one has seen Mrs. Dooley since she tried to clean out their tree house. Mama would always say, “You play with the Dooley Boys, you play with Satan.”