The day after the election, he carved a mask.
The day after that, he carved another.
It had never been more than a hobby; a craft passed down to him by his grandfather, who carved and painted all
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Short Fiction
Within a few weeks of her escape, the girl outgrew her only dress and had nothing to wear. Trying not to make a fuss, I gave her something of mine. She thanked me. She looked so ashamed. That she, a ... [+]
When I was a kid, I was very nervous about what I would be when I grew up. It honestly consumed me. I was constantly trying new things so I could see what felt right. At seven years old, I begged my ... [+]
The four-leaf clover should not have been there, caught in Esteban's hair. It was a surprise there was any clover at all. The cows had already been through twice that week, pulling at the remnants of ... [+]
"Are you scared?" I ask Dad over the phone.
"What do I have to be scared about?" he says. "We're locked in our rooms."
He's always been tough like that, stoic, but I wish I could see his face, hug
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Colonel Mathura beckons me forward, but the balcony is a maw with a balustrade of marble teeth. The crowd devours me with their cheers. I shuffle forward to be consumed by their support. The midday ... [+]
"So, you're happy, huh?" he says in disbelief.
He asks me this question several times during our two-hour get-together, trying to understand how I could feel so much happier about my life than he
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Bellatrix Sakakino worked for a commercial bank, focusing on securities valuation and research, and nobody liked her. This was because of her tints and hues. The colors emanating from her person were ... [+]
Dapper in a topcoat and tails, feet moving fast and graceful as birds skimming still waters, he whirled and swooped, catching my mother, still young and slim, by the waist, bending her backward. She ... [+]
I've never been less than an hour early for my train. I don't know if it comes from a sense of heightened preparedness or an ongoing current of anxiety that doesn't even let me sleep in on weekends ... [+]
Tracy Jo Freely climbed a tree one day. A plum tree. The big plum tree at the end of Miro Street.
"When are you coming back down?" her parents asked her an hour later.
"Never," said Tracy Jo.
He
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Joey Button didn't know how long he'd been peddling his bike when he saw it, but whenever he'd recall the moment, he'd remember that his legs were tired, so it'd probably been a while. It didn't ... [+]
I woke up from an untroubled sleep and remembered nothing.
***
Some days I envy Gregor Samsa. He woke up from a troubled sleep and found himself transformed into a giant
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Working toward sainthood this summer solved some of my problems. For one, my daily-Mass-going mother got off my back about getting a job and moving out permanently. Plus, it gave her something to ... [+]
I imagined diving under all that churning water to look for coins from faraway countries. My feet would be glued to the ground carrying the weight of one of those old-timey, metal spaceman-looking ... [+]
There's a ghost in my house. I hear her singing.
A little girl. Why is it always a little girl?
The light through the window is barely enough to see by, but the sky outside is very pale. Clouds
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Gregory Ashton set out alone from his apartment in Mar Vista, California for an extended walk. It was spring in the year 20–, and Gregory needed exercise. His doctor had recently diagnosed him as ... [+]
My father was a doctor. We never got the doctoring bug. He never spoke to us about medicine. Instead, he took us on road trips and taught us to play catch, even me. When we were little, he would read ... [+]