Category Archives: FICTION

FICTION (1000 WORDS OR MORE)

Exit Sign

Exit Sign

FICTION by

Suddenly, I hear a voice like an ancestral echo saying, “no hay peor ciego que el que no quiere ver” and I see the most obstinate of those who, blinded, refused to see: my mother. Another devastated angel, one who left without needing to emigrate, now back in her homeland. Like a gambler who risked her life to get to the casino with a single coin and is back with a tired thumb and nothing in her pockets.more

Snuggling

Snuggling

FICTION by

His ex-wife had never understood why he snuggled for a living. Stu remembered the way Liz would scowl at him from her side of the bed when she thought he was sleeping, prickly heat radiating off her body. The way she would shirk from his touch. “How many hands have yours touched today?” she’d accuse, as if he were contaminated. “What are you bringing into our home?”more

In the Desert

In the Desert

FICTION by

Anthony wants to be a man because he wants to be a Saint. He’d told Fr. Goering so. The priest had said sure, Anthony could do it, he’d just need to control himself.more

The Heart of Donner Price

The Heart of Donner Price

FICTION by

The main course was almost over when Donner Price’s heart burst from his chest onto the roast duck confit over garlic mashed potatoes, corn casserole and stemmed asparagus.more

Seville

Seville

FICTION by

He’d kept a full head of hair, barely any gray. Switched from Brylcreem to mousse because Gran bitched about him staining the pillowcases, but that night in his Burning Down the House suit, you could tell from the slickness and pungency he still had a tube of Brylcreem hidden somewhere and was going heavy with it for his big afternoon out.more

MEET ME AT THE QUARTERDECK

MEET ME AT THE QUARTERDECK

FICTION by

That’s what so many civilians don’t seem to understand. We’re not all gun-toting, dip-spitting, far right fuckheads who want to kill somebody and talk shit to ‘Lib-tards’ and collect American flag tattoos. Some of us, the vast majority of us, are just kids who wanted to go to college, to travel the world, to support our families.more

Canastota

Canastota

FICTION by

The back of the fat man’s shirt is splotched and looks like one of those ink tests they gave Bobby back in Arizona. “What do you see?” the shrink asked. Bobby saw two hairy pussies and the devil, but he only said he saw a goat when she asked because he knew what these tests were about.more

Back Then

Back Then

FICTION by ,

He looked around on the empty street and wanted to scream at the top of his voice, he wondered how many people would jump out of their armchairs, from in front of the TV. Blue light was cast onto the streets, the bluish-grey light of the era before colour TVs. Everyone was watching it. The light penetrated their bodies, and their souls did their dance of death on its rays.more

How to Hit a Woman

How to Hit a Woman

FICTION by

That’s like a teacher on syllabus day going, here’s the textbook and by the way, I will stab you a couple of times throughout the semester with this knife. Post your responses to the discussion board. more

Home Instead

Home Instead

FICTION by

Smash the front door in with the pickup, says Dad. I considers it: a cement step, the sunken garden next to it, the brick around the frame, the new pickup. How about a locksmith? I built it sixty years ago, he says. It’s pretty strong. But you’re driving, he concedes.more