Category: Stories
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Why No One Writes Lyric Realism Anymore
Kate Petersen
Because it isn’t real, for A. For B, large parts of it take place in chain Mexican restaurants in the Sun Belt. To certain families they don’t feel like chains, of course, because such families have always lived in the Sun Belt, and have been going to Friday Night Mexican at the same place since…
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Tom-tom
Edmund Sandoval
The adults ate then fed the teens, and when through, they fed the children from the pans. Whatever infants were there suckled, mainly from a breast, a bottle, but sometimes the ruby lips found their way to a lock of greasy hair dipped in honey. If there wasn’t a glass, a deep bowl was filled…
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Not Like The Movies
Steve Karas
I’m sitting at the kitchen table over a bowl of soggy oats, hives crawling up my neck, eyes watery and itching. It’s the cats; I’m deathly allergic. My mom brought home three last night. “Cute, aren’t they?” she says, wrapped in a white bathrobe swiped from a recent staycation with Rick at the Comfort Suites.…
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Indian Summer
Eric Lloyd Blix
June My, my. Look how much you’ve grown. The last time you spent a summer here with us you must a been a full head shorter. Now look at you. You’re nearly all grown up. I’m wonderin how’d your momma and pop get you to give up a whole summer to spend in this dusty…
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Flashover
Liz Betz
“If I’d seen you first…” I tell Jesse and she gives me a little smile that could tear the heart out of you but Roy smirks. “Got one on you there, Alvin old boy,” he said. Roy’s kept score forever. Back in school I’m picked as lead goalie. Next season he’s named the Captain. Me…
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The Fights
JP Kemmick
MY GREAT, GREAT UNCLE, CHARLEY KEMMICK, IS IMPRISONED ON POSSIBLE MURDER CHARGES AFTER HIS FIRST PROFESSIONAL FIGHT On a stained mattress, sixteen year old Charlie Kemmick sits in his 9’ x 9’ cell. He has not showered and the sweat from last night’s fight is still tacky on his skin. Unable to sleep, he had…
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Time Travel, Avoidance, Options
Lisa Nikolidakis
TIME TRAVEL In bed David talked about time travel. His voice was raspy, a staccato rhythm, and maybe ten minutes into his wormhole chatter, I opened my eyes and gazed at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, watched, even against darkness, as he traced a line in the air. “Right there,” he said. “We could…
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An American Dream
Christopher DeWan
The blast of cold air blew through our office and unmoored the various collected memos, contracts, loosely-held Post-It notes, food menus, and business cards, so it looked like a ticker tape parade, or anyway, it looked like our idea of a ticker tape parade: none of us had ever seen a ticker tape parade. None…
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The Weight of Meat
Sarah Overland
Put one foot directly in front of the other — the way Uncle taught you. Quiet. Don’t snap twigs, don’t clear your throat, don’t even breathe through your mouth. That makes way too much clatter and the animals will hear you coming. Keep the wind blowing in your face so they can’t smell you either.…
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the birdcage
James Claffey
I was born with a chirp in my heart. My parents barely paid it any attention, but when the the sharp outline of its beak threatened to break through, they summoned the doctor. He reached into his cavernous satchel and withdrew a small jar of bird food. “Open wide,” he said, and pushed a pincer-grip…
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While Oliver paints
Kevin O'Cuinn
I’ve been sleeping with the vicar since November four years ago. The reason I went there in the first place, the church, was to get out of the rain. Years had passed since ever I’d set foot in one, though I used to go often as a girl. Later I’d go annually, just, to confess…
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Rodent Sounds
Amy Butcher
She’s told she has her father’s strong jaw now and stands in front of the mirror, studying it. The Fat Rabbit is in the side yard again, looking in, and she watches him watch her in the smudged reflection of the full-length mirror. Where he goes most of the time, she doesn’t know, but after…