My friend used to ride the midnight bus so he could spend time with his dead sister.
He had been doing this for about five years, right after she was killed. Her boyfriend shot her one night ove
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My mother told me I should never date a guy who didn't have his own car. She said that it set some bad precedent, mixed up the lines between provider and provided-for. There's nothing more ladylike ... [+]
He didn't see the woman standing next to him until her face, white and round as the moon, was peering into the car. Her gray hair, long and thin, danced in the wind.
Her hand moved in circles
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Tomorrow will mark a year since I had my stroke. It's an occasion that, according to my daughter, Ginny, I should view as important. But I've spent enough time staring at death; I don't want to think ... [+]
The sword bounced against Petra's hip as she entered the BART train. The passengers didn't give her much thought, too used to the sight of Knights these days to care. Petra was relieved; she didn't ... [+]
It was the summer of '82, my first year at Saint Vincent's. I'd just arrived in the city, a newly minted nurse from the Midwest, and taken an apartment on Perry Street with three other nurses. He was ... [+]
A long time ago, when the world was new, the night sky was a dark void absent of moon or stars. By day, Helios, the Sun God, filled the sky with light as he raced his chariot around the heavens ... [+]
Dear Editor,
Attached is my short story, "Lovestruck." Please publish it in your magazine as I see it becoming a runaway success.
Best,
Nancy
(P.S. It's allegorical.)
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It was the splatter of liquid on my face that woke me. Shitty-quality beer, with a taste of loam. Awareness returned as it puddled beneath me, where the tree roots grew against my back. Feet on the ... [+]
Mrs Wallace had to jaywalk to make the bus, which was about to pull away. It wasn't easy. She was overweight and her left knee, which hadn't been feeling so good of late, felt spongey. Breathing ... [+]
There he was, waiting for another train. He was so sick of the subways. Always late. Dirty. Noisy. Flying maniac kids dancing for dollars. Bad musicians. Endless panhandlers. And the so-called ... [+]
"Do you like Sunshine Bear?"
Becca scowls down at her white shirt emblazoned with a smiling bear—at the long, bony finger inches away from her skinny chest.
"It's Funshine Bear," she says
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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 ... [+]
Anna knew the bridge was a mistake before she and Henry even got there. Maybe it was because he had said he thought it was strange for full grown adults to interrupt a conversation to swoon over an ... [+]
"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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