Stories

Arctic Fox

Imagine you were born in a box. A big box, you can walk around in it, you have food and whatever. That’s not the point. You grow up in this box.

The Case against Allen Creech (Exhibits A – F)

The bathroom window opposite his slammed shut. Allen glanced up just in time to see the whiteness of her flesh before the curtains closed. He resumed his work on the sill, scraping up layers of toxic paint.

Houses

When her father died, the house was like a crystal in the hillside. Its windows gleamed against the sun rising out of the clouds, off the sea, and there were other houses, larger, more austere, with furnishings and carpets looking into the depth of that round furnace coming up as though it had wings, out...

Citizens of the Real World

The woods spat Thomas into a clearing, and there they were: four men, one standing on the frozen lake, the others huddled around a smoking grill. Muffled reggaeton sounded from a portable radio buried halfway in the snow, antenna gamely perked.

The Wire Mother

Let me tell you about my precious son, Harry, who at one time occupied the body of a grown man and went to school where he was hailed as brilliant and ingenious by his peers.

Israelia

I knew Israelia because she and I came from the same little hometown in Florida, a “podunk” place out in the middle of the state, where a truly beautiful and graceful girl like she was really means something to the whole community because they only come around maybe once in a generation.

Spoiler

The end of this story is when Angela’s best friend from high school, Madeline, is dragged by a bull shark beneath the sunrise-dappled waves and carried out to sea on a riptide.

Amish Girl

The Bird-in-Hand Farmer’s Market is busiest on Saturdays, Anna Lapp’s day to help her mother at Lapp’s Canned Goods. Their stall is in the far right corner, one of about forty surrounding the perimeter of the former warehouse.

Mrs. Dalloway’s Meeting

Mrs. Dalloway said that she would walk to the office herself. For she knew the way; and the secretary already had his work cut out for him, without having to escort her.

Learning French

The American had a heart attack in French class: that’s what they wrote on his chart at the hospital in Carcassonne when they rushed him in. His teacher went along because she knew he could barely speak the language, and right then he couldn’t speak at all.

The Trachtenberg Speed System

An hour before dawn on the day after they shot his friend Tomas Ziniewicz, Jakow Trachtenberg saw through the greasy dormitory window a pigeon tumble to the ground, imperfectly refracted, near the spot where the guard had spilled the day’s soup a month before.

An Assumption

I was alone, on my knees, in my closet-sized bedroom, dutifully running through the rosary, when my prayers were disrupted by that most sensual of pleasures—the aroma of a well-cooked dinner.