Stories tagged short-short

This Year's Exoskeleton

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I keep my exoskeletons in the closet. An odd thing to do, I know, but somehow I just can’t let that part of me go.

whoring

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I watched myself tilt my head and coyly smile in the bottom right corner of the chat window-the two off-kilter lamps in the room were casting an asymmetrical shadow over half my face.

A Turlock Moment

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“Shweetheart, my childhood was like a candlelit dinner for two at Chuck E. Cheese’s—great promise surrounded by absurdity.”

Hydrogen Sulfide (Blind)

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Never again would I walk the wrong way, nor would I ever see another “Do Not Enter” sign.

Horny Pigeon

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My best friend and I are sitting on her daybed watching her sister dance with my boyfriend.  Her sister's shaking her ass in front of his crotch and he's going along like he's got no choice, twisting his hips and flapping his arms like a horny pigeon.  

Scene From a Cappuccino Bar

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Ahoy! There’s the little nipper now... The high seas is no place for a youngster, or even an artiste like yourself.

let us be thankful

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My mother pulled me aside and observed that I was more cheerful than in years past — even my grandmother had noticed it — but she hadn't caught me stealing off to the pint of Tennessee whiskey I had stashed in the study. Probably because she was…

it's not your fault

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The bay window where she sat in the morning and wrote. The herb garden she had planted one summer outside the kitchen window. The landing where she had lain, viciously twisted, for two hours before he came home from the office and found her.

Everyone Is Going Away

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“I don’t know what’s going on there,” Hank, who hated his name and wanted a more Biblical name because those names (Jeremiah! Matthew! David!)—although common—sound ominous, said as he pointed up to the top of the apartment building that housed the whores

With a Danish

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It wasn't hidden, exactly, but kept in a place where she wouldn't be expected to look: a photograph of Roger, naked and supine, looking at the camera without surprise.

The Olivetti, the Bomb, and Why I Got My Degree in Economics

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The revolution. It found me, and I didn’t even get blown by the bomb.

Raft of Worms

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I learned to love what we had: the long, bright days, the water all around us, and even their slithery bodies, which somehow never dried under the pounding sun.

The shadow on the wall

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Those small peculiar moments, brown and liquid, invented themselves before him while his cup drifted out of view...

Melt

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I returned from work three days ago to find an enormous cube of ice set in the middle of my living room floor.

Wall talks to wall

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Wall talks to wall. One has a clock, the other a window, the third a cupboard with bandages etcetera. The fourth a door that opens and closes a thousand times a day.Chair is across from chair. Occasionally the one looking for care picks the wrong one to sit in, and there is…