Stories tagged surreal

A Memoir

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…she smelled of sunflowers.

Dream of Burying My Grandmother Who Has No Grave

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We buried her upright, in the stance of warriors.

Pectoralis Minor

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Her thumbs tucked beneath the waistline of her pants, slightly pulling them down to expose the eternity between belly button and bliss. I looked up at her as I slid my tongue along the rail of her hip, sucking at its point.


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The boy in the red hat has no nose, and he is smiling./ The girl with the pointy ears does not blink, ever.

Grand Heads for America: A Fable of Exceptionalism

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Greg Samson opened his eyes. He had never wanted morning so bad, since he had writhed and jerked all night with distressing dreams. Good morning, Georgetown. And yet, something was still not right. His feet and calves hung off the bed's end, and yet his h

Solitary Lunatics Up On The Roof

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Up top, the sky is like a fist fight- fat lip purple and bitchslap pinks get wilder as the tabs kick in. Those hovering lights are aliens! we assert with insistent like-mindedness from where we sit directly beneath the airport flight path.

Her Head Sounserals Away

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"Bortne! Bortne! Shushort!" she exclaims, shooting her hands over her wobbly head in pleasure, causing it to again pop off. This time, it's a three story drop from a balcony. Terrified, he yells "Sneeeeew nuuuu! Oh nee padoooo!"

The Forbidden Dance

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They are pushing and shaking the old caddy, made of angles ‘cause it's from the old days. They are Arabs or Mexicans. I am not a racist. It's dark and there is loud music coming from that hotel that men live in. They are shaking the car…


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"leaves &damage, &shifts of shape"

One Slow Dance with Buddha

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So suppose that it is a cool night with just a hint of autumn in the air and this woman, just your average woman, say, is standing in the dark so nondescript and let's say he'd looked at her, looked through her, half a dozen times or so in that sea…

Says the Sky

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He is frowning now. He is rubbing his head. “Yes,” he says. “I am thinking about its preposterousness. In fact, I am thinking of nothing but. You might even say I am pondering it. I am pondering the preponderance of its complete and utter preposterousnes

The coded feather in the glass

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Dirty intimate feathers They're not listened to by anyone I can't hear the feathers in my mind I can hear the breaking clattering thunder and the ambidextrous love

Tell that to Tom Nowhere, if you dare

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Out where they grow the miles


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that was one more autumn we endured for laughter, coming from the other side of town on a bicycle of zoo creatures. The empty mirror was a crystal in my hand, journeying with us, with the cathedral seats, with the small bears in cans

three gretchens

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The story of a second, a stone, and an android -- all curiously interrelated and all, coincidentally, named Gretchen