Category Archives: FICTION

FICTION (1000 WORDS OR MORE)

Hotline

Hotline

FICTION by

If you’re not rich or famous or powerful, then you’re just you, the guy nobody wants to hear whine.more

Goat Rock

Goat Rock

FICTION by

As I climb, I remember all the times I’ve gotten ear infections from lake water that looked just like the green, muddy water below. I look down again and see the sign on the bank next to Damion. NO SWIMMING, it says. I keep climbing. Damion keeps shouting.more

Everybody Knows That Paul McCartney Died in a Car Crash in 1966

Everybody Knows That Paul McCartney Died in a Car Crash in 1966

FICTION by

After you parted ways, you to your tour bus, your parents their station wagon to sign the non-disclosure agreements, what unasked questions would still linger between you, the way that ancient regrets linger like trapped smoke in empty dive bars?more

Three Middle-Aged Men Telling Scary Stories Around A Campfire

Three Middle-Aged Men Telling Scary Stories Around A Campfire

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Everything is exactly how they remember it: Three 21-year-old shitheads, disheveled with bad haircuts, ratty clothes, ugly macho postures. Except there’s a fourth guy this time, in between them, his arms hung around their shoulders.more

Warm Mayonnaise

Warm Mayonnaise

FICTION by

Our corporate crusader would not allow his lactose intolerance to ruin his lunch. This was the only time he had to himself, the only part of his life that he didn’t necessarily enjoy so much as not suffer through. This was his only freedom.more

The Lemans

The Lemans

FICTION by

This was 1999 and travel agencies were getting killed off by the internet and I was selling my vintage 1972 Pontiac LeMans because my wife, Corrine, fucked an FBI agent in it.more

Brand-New

Brand-New

FICTION by

The doctor told me to be more juvenile with my sexuality. To rub myself up against furniture. Doorknobs. To mimic the actors on the pornos he had me watch, pushing my ass up and spreading myself wide. He was an amputee.more

Poor Steve

Poor Steve

FICTION by

It began, as these things often do, with a name—Steve—which struck me, even then, as appallingly flat. A name like an unbuttered toast, slightly burnt.more

127 Feet

127 Feet

FICTION by

John felt unoriginal—an insurance company office worker offing himself in his cheap apartment. But this weapon had balls. His friends and family could take pride in knowing he’d killed himself in this way.more

Bad Junk

Bad Junk

FICTION by

Right from the start, sum things you know you’re gunna fuck right up. Still, it would a been easier if China Joe hadn’t stuck that dart in Bobby Chopp’s arm and shooting him full a Hero cut with Ajax.more