Stories tagged short-story

What I Did For Pho

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Once upon a time there was a Vietnamese restaurant. And then there were two, and four, and eight...

Your Novel Approach

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It is as if everything happened so many years ago, so long ago that calendars would long since have become clocks locked in hock shops like so many cocks in shock, tenderness prickly, pricks sickly and radio irreplaceable by talkies, television...

EFFORT

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From outside it looked abandoned. We lived at the top of a dead end hill. The grass was high and brown, the bricks in the driveway were crooked, caved in. The winter was mild; rotten crabapples, half-frozen, lined the end of the road. This was my house.

The Other City

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Known as the Venice of the New World, New York City is quaint yet cosmopolitan. The city is comprised of hundreds of tiny islands, and these islands are linked by a system of ferries...

The Truffle Pig

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I noticed something new in the corner of the living room. It was a big, grotesque, twisted, gray, headless carcass. But it wasn't a carcass. It moved. It shifted around a bit from time to time.

An Uncanny Resemblance

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"A retired German soccer player who bears an uncanny resemblance to Rainer Werner Fassbinder, the late German film maker, has kidnapped the lovely Art Director of Sport magazine and hijacked a plane..."

The Wide and Lonely World

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She wanted a hammer of her own. She and Fritzi could sit there with their hammers and see the whole wide and lonely world from there: Aunt Bernice, the penned-up sows and broken down buildings, Jerry and Elizabeth, and her brothers, and farther away, Pete

Working with Frank

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I had been working for Perdue for several weeks, but Thanksgiving would be the first day I'd actually be working with Frank himself.

Man in Chair with Book

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Sitting in the chair, by the window, reading a Penguin Classics paperback edition of selected essays of Montaigne, at page 196, he just froze, unable to move a muscle.

Fuzzy Mollis

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It was a quick jolt of suspicion. My small kitchen has barely enough room to turn around in, yet I had the sensation I was being watched. When I experience it again, just seconds later, I realize it is real eyes watching, not a camera.

Fuzzy Mollis

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My small kitchen has barely enough room to turn around in, yet I had the feeling I was being watched. When I experience it again, just seconds later, I realize it was eyes watching, actual eyes, not a camera or machine.

The Gatekeeper Of The Pathogens

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It was in his teeth. A blackness, a subscription to an outsideness, a painful contraction of burnt out trees scattered there among sand drifts and tidal debris. His face, lightly weathered and troubled, a tightness built into eyes of thought and separation. His arms, strong…

No Such Thing

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People could disappear in the Pine Barrens and never be seen again. Either by their own choice or when someone didn’t want the body found. John Dance knew that was just a part of life you had to accept and couldn’t change.

The Quiet Place

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Chatty Katty. It must be Tuesday.

Calling out the Storm

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Outside we could see the winds bursting sharply through the trees. When an oak actually bends to one side, its bad...a normal person seeks shelter.