Stories tagged short-fiction

Secret Snow

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Just breathing is hard, harder than anything she has ever had to endure, but she wants the memory of the snow.

Postcard

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"Special delivery for a friend?" he asked. "Postcards are a wonderful thing. All people want to do nowadays is send e-mails. But what's better than putting a postcard on the fridge?"

The Corners

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I dreamed of murder. Truck drivers, bikers, hitchhikers. More often the girl whose family was driving her to college.

Rats

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I tell my wife that for just $36 you can buy a year’s supply of bananas to feed one rat. Or you can buy a “love nest” for a breeding pair of rats.

Hotel Chelsea - Intercut 1

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In Washington Square Park in the center of the fountain and cupped by delusion he whirls and turns shirtless

Hotel Chelsea - Intercut 2

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creating the man-machine ... standing outside the Men’s room waiting for the gates to be thrown open

From Beyond

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Someday they'll find me face-down in a puddle of ink.

Lick My Blahniks, she said

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“While you’re down on your knees, dog-boy, lick my shoes..."

Hotel Chelsea - Intercut 4 (micro)

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a face all of gold: metallic, her features painted atop a golden skin-mask

Juliana the Vampire

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Juliana was a beautiful graduate student to begin with, but when Alex made her a vampire, she became a knockout to die for.

Hotel Chelsea - Nanette

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Nanette got off the N train and climbed the stairs of the subway station, feeling oddly relaxed though still her hand held the stun-gun inside her purse.

Hotel Chelsea - Nanette 2

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Her pen was the same color blue as the flags that flew outside the NYU buildings

Blossom and Monkey-Wrench

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One day, Dirk the mechanic stood in the service bay underneath a Cadillac, sucking the knuckle he’d just bloodied

Booming

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"I want more grandchildren to spoil," the woman said. Will took a swig of beer at such moments. Maxine only answered with “someday” and looked over toward her husband. She knew it was his fault, didn’t really know why, but blamed him anyway.

Hotel Chelsea - Nanette 3

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Nanette no longer thought of home