Stories tagged literature

Not The Saint (March Paddy Whacker Challenge)

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I only mention it to complete the picture of a thirst in me that was never satisfied, especially not by reality.

(3) Country House

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At one point he’d said: Don’t you have work to do? And she’d said: I’m doing it now.

Girma Dali - Chapter 2

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This is Chapter 2 of my serialzied novel Girma Dali. The title character reflects upon his youth and the young boy, Benga, who mentored him into adolescence.

Am I Blanche DuBois

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I’m older now, men don’t fall at my feet except when they’re drunk. I don’t keep as many mirrors in the house. I know this, Stanley, I’m not stupid. I may be fatuous, but it's required by the canon.


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He had no idea about the first three cards - what he would call the flop - which looked dubious and full of danger.

Two-Hour Delay

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Marge sat up and looked over the fitted sheet: little flecks of red outlined the wide silhouettes of her and her husband. They’d been in the trailer for almost a year and were still working on what Marge called “livability.” Bugs, mold, odors. It wasn’t e

Escape Literature

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on semantic roller-coaster dips of language

A Silent Scream

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She hated the noiseless dying sound they made as he stuck the hook through their eyes. She always wanted for them to scream, but they never did. They didn’t even blink.

The Desert Lights

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It's so damn hot out that one day my skin melts right off. Slipping off my bones in chunks until it forms one big puddle on the floor below me. I can't even move I'm so overheated; all I can do is watch as my body is reduced to nothing but a skeleton. At

The barbarian at the gate, a work in progress

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I may even invite the little man, who lives in the closet, to come out and visit me: Come over here, pleasure me, let me sit on your pink latex face.

White Walls

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Last I knew she was seeing a boy named Evan. Last I knew the only time she really spoke to me was to ask a question about homework or if I had a pen she could borrow. I always kept extra pens handy. I haven't even seen her since school ended, so I don't…


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He and she are fucking while I watch. She's moaning deep desire and he's pounding flesh into flesh. I'm fully clothed, eyes attune to their fornication, studying. He comes inside of her; their bodies stiffen and then wriggle against one another. …

Clover Grill: A Short Story

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I'm somewhere on I-10 in Mississippi, barreling westbound at 80 miles an hour through a rainstorm on a late Wednesday afternoon. The last road sign I remember was for Beauvoir, some Confederate general's…


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After nine months, I was granted early parole...

A Lovely Appetite

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The fork plunged into her arm, and as I raised the knife to cut out a piece of flesh, she moaned with desire. With the delicacy of a newborn I slowly lifted the fork to my mouth and began chewing as she watched with a ravenous stare. With each bite her hands slid…