A woodsman gave me a ride for the last few miles. He was surprised to find a young woman on the mountain path. “You’re a student?” he said. “From Piarista gymnazium,” I said. “Where the witch burning happened last week,” he said. “Awful stuff.” We passed through small settlements; the path wound up through the […]
W hen P-XIE refused to justify her surgery, the reporter asked if it was so she could marry a fish. Her publicist cut the interview off. But that became the story. Pop Icon Gone Fishing: Are Real Men Not Good Enough for P-XIE? Three months later, on a sun-soaked Saturday afternoon outside Saint Louis,
Popstar Mermaid in a Trash Storm Along the Mississippi Read More »
D avid loved untaxed Bauhaus steel. Especially when it was at a Vancouver 6.7 percent discount. If he included the security envelope with fifty one-dollar bills, the total cost of two coffee tables, a new kitchen table, and matching bedside lamps was $9,650. Sure, his five-year-old daughter, Elise–who he’d coached not to say a word
For the Love of Fries Read More »
A tough call—Strawberry Lemonade or Wild Cherry? I had heard rumors last semester but until now didn’t believe them. Rachel Roth, who was three inches taller than any boy in the 6th grade, supposedly ordered Norm Chance and Randy Gibson to “go shopping.” There was only one
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I used to be a bird. My mother never hid this fact from me. She told me as soon as I was old enough to understand. At the time, this made complete sense. Children are much more accepting of the impossible. I nodded as she prepared my breakfast, sunlight streaming through the window blinds and
Light As a Feather Read More »
S he had no fear of the bubbles. They caressed her skin more softly than she guessed as she sank deeper. The cold burned at first, scalding her arms, cheeks, ears, yet she dove farther under the surface and into the frigid water. The current stripped her sweater off her arms as she swam, the
T he truth glistens in its glass jar as I lift it down from its hiding place on the top shelf. My customer eyes it hungrily as I take her smaller jar and remove its lid. The young woman wears her hood low and speaks little–I do not ask her name.
The Truth Merchant Read More »
Inspired by Hernando Tellez’ story Lather and Nothing Else S he came into study hall with a flounce. I was the only tutor on duty that day. Amanda carelessly tossed her bag onto the floor and sat in the chair across from mine. To cover my nervousness, I stacked my notebooks to the side and
B reathe deep and break the surface. Ice blue waters tingle on lips. Your arms pull like longboat oars, thrusting you down. Since childhood, you’ve explored every inch of the seabed in front of the beach house, searching for your lost twin, your fingers brushing gray-black sand, which whips into underwater
One Hundred and Thirty-Five Seconds Read More »
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