Stories tagged relationships

The Trouble with Hope

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It's so fragile anything can kill it— one cold night, the smoking chimney too far off in the distance, another drought, everyone at the table either drunk or estranged; but like a fisted bud, it rides out even the deluge …

Nothing Between Us

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Amy's a supergirl, and supergirls just fly.

Turista

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Love is the universal language, he said. That was probably his excuse for never learning English.

The Rat Eats Last

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One thing she'd learned since dating an older man was that she was the perpetual loser when it came to arguments, the one who didn't know John Adams from Buffalo Bill or that Haight Ashbury was a hippie freak show instead of a Nazi compound.

Girl Ajar

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Mother saw and swung. It was a talented slap. The kind which left white welts and then dissolved to venom in your veins. The inside of your cheek puckered and bloated.

Any migration is forced

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I’m not / going to change you I /promise

Clay Women

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"... I knew Willie had gone— out the back door or out the side window. I knew he probably slipped over the fence behind my house into Lou C.’s backyard..."

Tiger-eyed

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The tiger-eye beads around her neck would wink at me like a nervous uncle sharing a secret with a child. They roll on her sternum like marbles. At night, on her nightstand, they whisper my secret to the patchouli-scented room. How long have they known?

a good man deserves a good woman

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“I'm a sucker for the bad boys,” I tell my mother. “a good man deserves a good woman,” she says under her breath.

Lithium and Gin

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"It's called Death Spank," said an acquaintance of mine as we sat outside in the heavy rain, sipping gin at a local cafe. He'd whispered it like it was some kind of depraved secret, his words followed up with a grin and a "You'll love it. I'm telling you" nod and a wink. He…

Jared Sampson's Mom

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She died in a car crash yesterday. She was driving down Hawthorne, past the strip mall with the Benihana’s, when her ’05 Corolla unaccountably careened over the center meridian and into oncoming traffic.

The Ferry

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The two of them stood at the long end of a pier that cut sharp into an L 25 feet out into the river. It was an old wooden pier that relished in its every crack and splinter regardless of the fresh coat of white paint that melted lazily over the rotting bo

That Night

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You want to tell her about that night. About what the wipers said. About what you almost did. But it doesn’t matter now. It’s too late.

That Night

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You want to tell her about that night. About what the wipers said. About what you almost did. But it doesn’t matter now. It’s too late.

Chrome Bumpers

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I could feel my whole body clench when she walked into the room wearing nothing but a clear plastic rain slicker, a pair of my white briefs, and red rubber boots. She said she liked to do it in the rain with the lightning lighting up her face. It was late, pouring…