Tag Archives: Fiction

The Genie

The Genie

Fiction by

Jesus, I thought. Treasure. Real treasure. I didn’t say a word to the neighbor kid. All I thought about was his snot hands and my lamp. I knew what I had to do. I picked up a clump of dirt, and I thew it at his head.more

A Couple Tomatoes

A Couple Tomatoes

Fiction by

If there was ever just one bird left in the shoot, it’d get pardoned. Let out to fly away. Makes you wonder what the truly guilty do with freedom. I’ve stopped pretending I don’t feel a little crooked about everything.more

Anybody Seen Ray-Ray?

Anybody Seen Ray-Ray?

Fiction by

They had all mellowed out, sitting there slumped over, eyes closed, half asleep when another car came up the avenue. This one stopped with a skid and a screech. No one noticed the color, make or model. It was dark, could have been black, blue, or even red. All they saw was the front passenger side window go down, and then Alton yelled, “Oh shit, gun!”more

Two Micros

Two Micros

Fiction by

Stripe-tailed with downy head plumage, amphibian up to ankles—truncated by Reorganized Latter Day Saint knicker flannel, she claw-writes ambidextrous each time the thunder comes. They published her without knowledge—just the way she prefers.more

My Daddy Issues Drove Me to the Monastery

My Daddy Issues Drove Me to the Monastery

Fiction by

I wondered if I was the first monk to sneak out to strip clubs. I mean, no one was perfect. Every monk had their thing. Harry always took two desserts instead of one. Miles slept through his pancake shift on the weekend. Phil took like eight paper towels when he dried his hands in the bathroom. But the first monk to sneak off to strip clubs?more

Aftermath

Aftermath

Fiction by

When Sarah first started working at McDonald’s as a teenager, she had tried to tell her father what it was really like, how bad, and her father, who was white-haired and bitter even then, after her mother, sick of his misery, had left him, had said, “You think you got it hard? You just look at me. When you got my problems, then you can complain, understand?”more

Bad-Ass Days of the Demons of Ultimate Hell

Bad-Ass Days of the Demons of Ultimate Hell

Fiction by

The Demons of Ultimate Hell was our metal band. Our shitty, did-it-for 5-minutes-and-played-one-basement-gig metal band. We were too young to understand cruel but we sure understood stupid.more

Art’s Wife

Art’s Wife

Fiction by

His eyes blinked like a machine gun’s stutter. He swirled his Chivas and mumbled something—I couldn’t hear it well over the racket of wild fucking in the bedroom. Maybe he said, “Mother would never have written that.”more

Storm Coming

Storm Coming

Fiction by

On the ledge, the short man looked down. He felt the lonely tent behind him. In front of him, there was the storm, moving black and slow.more

We’re Proud of You, Darling

We’re Proud of You, Darling

Fiction by

I take the handle of the vice and turn it clockwise. It’s so close to my eyes it’s out of focus. The screw turns a little and the sliding jaw presses against the left side of my head. I breathe out as much as I can in one go. I hold the nothing as long as I can before I breathe in again. It’s part of the ceremony.more