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Category: Stories

  • By Morning

    The first thing my uncle wanted to do when he got out of prison was go fishing. Go fishing. That was it. That was all we heard about. At barbecues, at the grocery, meetings with his parole officer. When he’d pass out drunk on the couch he’d mumble about the tide. Sometimes I’d grab my…

  • Le Retour de Flamme

    René Magritte, Le Retour de Flamme, 1943 That’s Fantômas the master has painted all right, but instead of a bloody knife, he’s holding a rose, and instead of a cold stare, his eyes are closed: less murderous schemer, more dreamer mid-daydream. Loulou the Pomeranian has read all 32 volumes of the series, but he likes…

  • Three Linked Micro-Fictions Prompted by the Discovery of Kepler 186f

    Somnambunaut Hyper-sleep dreams are decades-long and luxurious, weaving through one another, tendrils knotting and untying, worming into those who dare travel deep space and lingering with me long after we arrived here in the Cygnus system, but soon we were so busy establishing a colony that years or else year-like tangles of time fell away…

  • Corpseless Shrouds

    The first time I almost died, I thought that what attacked me — what entranced me — had been something else, other than Death. And a strange something else at that. There I was, lying in bed, normal as always, and suddenly someone was pressing my chest, and I was carrying the world in my…

  • Cashmere

    The rich are different from you and me. They worry more about taxes and wear nicer socks. My boyfriend has socks made of cashmere. I’ve never had a sweater made of cashmere. While making eggs in my boyfriend’s kitchen, I tell him that his pan’s non-stick coating is a known carcinogenic. “That’s not non-stick coating,”…

  • Birthright

    I got a message saying a lawyer wanted to contact me about an inheritance. It was the oldest spam on record. I ignored the first three. But they didn’t stop. Eventually, a lawyer, Mr. Hopewell, flew out from the capital to meet with me. “I assure you it is legit, Ms. Gannet. Now that the…

  • The Woman in the Woods

    Papa’s Death and the Orphan Train No matter how many times Horace told her different, Eliza knew her brother was wrong. The woman in the woods didn’t look the least bit dead. The woman in the woods looked beautiful. With her long flowing hair and a leaf-gold cape, she made Eliza think of an ancient…

  • Swap Space

    Mu wakes up in a comfortable bed, in a room with blue walls, next to a woman who snores softly with her back turned to him. He props himself up on his elbows, scanning the room through sleepy, half-closed eyes. The woman turns her head. He can see the profile of her face; she is…

  • Murder Sounds

    I thought I heard someone being murdered. What can I say — that’s what I heard. I woke my husband up. “Get up,” I said. “Someone’s being murdered.” “Carly, please,” Ted said, turning over. “Come on, please.” He said it sort of like a moan, like he might be asking for something else in another…

  • Cat, Catfish, Cat

    for Helen Lampkin 1. Cat What does one do with her hair for a date of catfishing in the Untethered Lagoon? These were the days before the proper ponytail and permanent, and pomade would sweat and drip. What Jo-Alice did was take her hair, straightened by a hot iron comb with thinly-spaced teeny teeth, and…

  • Some For Myself

    “Sonny,” she says. “What was I thinking?” she says. “Thinking you don’t know until you know,” she says. “That’s what I was thinking,” she says. “It’s here now, Sonny,” she says. She points to the box and packing material on the floor. “See for yourself,” she says. I step in. “Maybe not for everyone, if…

  • The Last Time I was Near a Volcano

    The last time I was near a volcano it was in Hawaii and this guy was trying to get me to go on a helicopter ride over Mauna Loa on the Big Island and look at the lava. No thanks, I said, and told him how a few months back one of those helicopters had…