Fiction

Shitbreath

My name is Jacob, but that wasn’t my first name. After I was born, my parents called me Shitbreath. I imagine all babies stink when they come out, covered as...

Sea Wolf

The inflated breast, the red and filling cheeks. Hands balled, white to the knuckle, nails cleaving palms. Face like a cork in the spout of a freshly shaken bot...

The Countdown

He knew she had found a success, so he broke his sobriety pledge to celebrate with her. He said, “I’m walking down to Ryan & Casey’s. Do you have what yo...

My Days in the Tepee

“Mine was fat,” she says, “I had a fat dad.” She sips the Margarita—extra salt on the rim—that I made her. I’m the substitute bartender. How we got on the subje...

Being The Good Guys

And then we decided to save the orangutans! We gathered a lot of intel about bad guys burning down the forest and how the orangutans were getting fried and h...

Undercover Cat

Since it hit the papers, I've been looking at Minnie-Chat in a different light, reevaluating her conduct over the past fourteen years. Here's the way it alwa...

Tulip Time

Katie The sound of the smashing was like thunder that comes out of complete silence and snaps every nerve in your body. Amelia didn't flinch, didn't cling to...

A Good Mother

It is in the third grade that I begin to consider the possibility that Georgie will be a better writer than I am. I’m picking him up from school when he turns t...

Do You Still Skate?

She stopped in at the bakery most mornings. Always the same: ice-skates around her neck, her face flush, her hair tied loosely back. She was too distant to say ...