I met Sarkas at a club called Pose. Rolling on molly, eager to swallow the world, dancing with our hips and mouths pressed together before I even knew his name. Light ricocheted off sweat-slick skin... [+]
Short Fiction
I met Sarkas at a club called Pose. Rolling on molly, eager to swallow the world, dancing with our hips and mouths pressed together before I even knew his name. Light ricocheted off sweat-slick skin... [+]
On the days I visited the care center, I’d walk past this used bookshop on a quiet sidestreet. There were these four books in the shop window that always caught my eye. Other books would come and... [+]
Not long after she moved – ties cut, no looking back, he’d never find her on that side of town anyway, if he bothered to look – she found a string of Christmas lights at the thrift store when... [+]
I remember when my world divided into male and female, when the girls screamed “Shaun has cooties!” across the playground and flushed with what I thought was anger. I remember being in a... [+]
First thing every day, I count out the same colorful cocktail of medications into Mother’s four containers: morning, midday, evening meal and nighttime. Two pink pills shortly after waking up, and... [+]
Mr. MacInnes had decided it was time to talk to Brian about his appearance. He didn’t want to, lord knows he wasn’t a stickler for such things, but lately it had all gotten a bit out of hand. It... [+]
1. Octopuses have nine brains.
Me? I wouldn’t want so many organs with which to overthink and fly into hysterics. You always ran from those—took the car and left me alone for hours, sometimes... [+]
I was in the middle of painting a vein when my husband came into my studio and announced that he was leaving me for another woman. Anyone who has painted flowers and leaves knows what a delicate... [+]
There were two old men sitting on a bench. They looked as if they were waiting for a bus, but when the bus went past, they were still there.
The one on the left was holding a bunch of flowers. The... [+]