Category: Fiction

John often scheduled trips, then changed his mind at the last minute. He’d spend hours looking at maps, photos of diners, old railway stations, Post Offices covered in kudzu, and haunted hotels (where he liked to stay). He’d...

Aiden was a rising literary critic, renowned for his fearless iconoclasm. Twain, Whitman, Kerouac, Emily Dickinson: no one was safe, the living with the dead.  On the eve of the publication of his first book, Aiden awoke to see...

Every night, I roll over to face the empty side of my bed. In varying levels of distress, I call out to a friend. My busy friend always stops by for our chat. I beg. I plead. I offer. It’s when I attempt bribery Death laughs in...

It was difficult to attend her friend’s baby shower. How could she be joyous when she had just lost her own? Little Chloe was delivered prematurely. Her little lungs were not mature enough for her to survive. Tina had sunk into...

Sam Adams met Maria his wife in a dream.  The dream started in high school when he fell asleep in a physics class and saw the most beautiful woman in the world staring at him.  He yelled out, “who are you?” and she...

Alone, I sit silently searching for poachers.  Something murmurs at the far edge of hearing.  An underground spring, or perhaps a wood nymph?  This rifle seems an intrusion in this magical space, but there are...

The symbols became clear on the stick as she sat there. Thou shalt not become pregnant this month, either, and she flung the test into the metal wastebasket with a clang.    As she stepped into the...

A scuffle broke out at her feet. “Stop it!” yelled Lydia, chasing her dogs from the kitchen. Harlow, the victor, chomped loudly with a hint of gagging. “Drop it!” Harlow continued the grotesque sound as Hunter watched longingly....

Spinning A mile away, the car flipped over and over, appearing as a large red thrown object, hitting, bouncing from road into the median. Instinctively, I slowed my car, foot leaving the gas pedal until I was coasting. Brake...

Marie’s hands skipped across the black and white keys, spinning the staccato tones of Balakirev’s “Islamej” for a spellbound audience. Years ago, musicians had called Balakirev’s piece the “unplayable fantasy.” Nowadays, things...

I put the phone down, gripped the kitchen sink, and felt my heart shatter somewhere deep inside myself along with so many expectations.  I struggled to make sense of what I had heard.  Words strung together into...

He really didn’t know how long they’d been living down that particular drain. But at least it was east facing; offering eight minutes of luscious sun each morning. More than once he’d spied envy in the eyes of the other...