Stories tagged short-story

Bucolic

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He could smell the vestiges of alcohol on his folks. They’d let him stay up till midnight to mark the new year, and his mother had sneaked him a taste of her whisky. He remembered now what she’d last said before sending him off to bed, how strange it soun

In Rittenhouse Square

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Any visitor to Philadelphia ends up, inevitably, in Rittenhouse Square, right in the heart of the city—as William Penn himself intended, in his original design. These days, trendy outdoor cafes line the Square on Eighteenth Street; and in the current fashion, have…

Losing Found Things

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Last-minute women notice me and latch on, converging in narcotized spirals, old sunflowers twisting towards a fake light. Ugly, used up people, turning like dirty snow, terrified of facing the sunlight alone, of the hour long drunken drive home.

A Short Visit

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April and Holly Shipp may have looked like twins, but their natures were like shade and sunshine.

Brian, Lisa And The Robinsons

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Sometimes you're searching for a family and you don't even know it. Sometimes a family finds you.

Resonate

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In September of that year, our neighbor Wayne had this idea that he could get rich by selling groceries Amway-style, and he booted his 12-year-old boy out of his own bedroom and put up shelves loaded with packages of spaghetti, cans of roast beef, soda po

SAMESON JAMESON

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...This napalm can be used for a myriad of sovereign endeavors, and I will let your imagination be your guide so as not to incriminate myself. God Bless. -- Jameson Schreiber Dallas, Texas 1993

Unpleated

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What was happening to me? If my guy friends saw me, I'd never bowl again, never play in a softball league in this town again and no gym in the tri-county area would have me aside from the frou-frou ones downtown. I'd be a disgrace.

The Fortune of an Accident

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Staring at her horribly disfigured face, I envied her.

The running from San Pedro blues

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"Beer and tomato juice ... Breakfast of champions."

Confetti

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The vision fades, and love cannot see, then goes the touch; love cannot feel. Love loses its hearing and love hides. It's a weakening, a dissolution back into the source. Love dissolves into hope, and hope is a dangerous, reckless thing.

Fantômas en Amérique (Part 3)

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In the cave of an old maisonnette at the exterior of the town I now scripture these words with sharp charcoal derived from a dead fire in the back garden.

I Was Don Ho's Ho

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Every Hawaiian that I know has a double name, and leads two lives.

Valentina

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There’s this woman I work with, I asked her how she was doing the other day and she said she saw someone jump in front of a train. I said: if she ever needed someone to talk to, she could talk to me. She said: she had her friends. Her friends are in anoth

A June Defection

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I came from the only flat region in the kingdom of mountains and fjords, and called the city “Down in the Dumps”. The beleaguering mountains smelled a flatlander when they saw one, and hated me right back.