Stories tagged memories

Marry That Girl, Solly

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He had thought of the walk down to Mrs Greensmith’s shop when he and all the men beside him reckoned they’d “had it” that time when II SS Panzer-Division had fought like gods for Hill 212.

Final Landing

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She got a whiff of something unpleasant. It wasn’t the food. More like very gamey body odor. An unwashed bottom. His dirty derriere. The odor traveled up through Chester’s clothes and made her choke. She gagged but didn’t comment because that would only make him more proud.

My Darling Dead Ones

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Do you remember?

Freeing Annabel Lee

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It drifted into the sea, I say, when you ask me about home. You’ve only known me for a few moments, so you’re not sure how to gauge me. You laugh, and make an Annabel Lee reference. The English teach in me wants to hug you. The New Jersey in me wants


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It is a hot August night — the same kind you remember from that summer after high school graduation. A cool breeze blows in off the ocean, sweeping across the boardwalk just hard enough to dry the …


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But she knew what she would find. She knew it all the moment she felt the sticky fingerprints behind the slat of her old oak slay bed. The fingerprints that would only be left from a person grabbing it from behind their head. The fingerprints that she

The memories lived in the house

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each act of creation is a jolt of expectation

Anchored Leaves

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i.More and more, for Megan LeMaster, each beginning was its own end. She couldn't bear to buy flowers or dresses that seemed too beautiful. Friendships formed, endured, gave out in a handshake. Each deed in life had an immediate, inescapable…

Spirit Voices Saying Yes

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some are cameras, some are daggers, some are sauces pans, others are swords, and some will run off and others will burn a hole into the spot which they land.


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When you embraced me, I felt amazing.I rode miles today to play cards and drink Dr.Pepper with you. Today was the first time. As you whispered the words, the key, I felt your body tighten with mine.

The Women

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I crawl under a table in the kitchen and listen to the women talk.

Olfactory Hues

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When summers at the dacha come to mind, the memories are scattershot. I like when they surface, but I don’t hold on to any of the fragments for too long. Not because anything unpleasant went on there; to the contrary, I remember those summers spent at our


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Filling his nostrils, cold and moist against his cheek. The primitive taste of it, like licking a grave. Prayers tossed from his mind to the heavens as stray small coins are tossed into a fountain. His left arm throbbing beneath his weight. All around him

A Bum-note Baritone

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Quite a figure he cut in his Jockey y-fronts, the Johnson’s Baby talcum powder billowing everywhere, the old-fashioned bottle of Old Spice shaken and slapped on both palms and then both cheeks.

Her Man in the Navy Blues

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In that time when the trunk was getting cleared out and when it became only the empty shell of what had once been so important, many things hit the match. She burned an old black negligee, a picture competing with the likes of a Vargas girl and other thin