Fiction

Room

On the verge of this, that, or some other thing, Charlotte draws up short in the dining room, all way forward barred by the image of a knife left out on th...

Boys with Secrets

After my best friend broke up with me for Jesus, my other best friend invited me over to watch his favorite film. I was crying, not at the film, which was actua...

The Lower Hillside

My mother-in-law’s coworker, Sarah, is on the evening news. A passenger in a nearby car videoed her Toyota Camry swerving back and forth on the highway during l...

Alfie

Alfie spends the morning watching plaster dry. There is a saturation to watching. so much brown, Alfie thinks, watching it twist, sink into pale. Eventuall...

Compromising

Libby blames her failure to be a “collaborative team player” on the torture of group work in elementary school. In fourth grade, when they were studying democra...

I Am a Conservationist

Georgie is twelve and doesn’t give a fuck. His tantrums extended from the terrible twos, and I stopped counting when I realized it only depressed me further to ...

The Museum of Heartache

Maybe grief is an artifact. Or a trinket God hands you that you’re bound to keep. Once you have it, you can’t be caught without it ever again. You can’t give it...

The Leavings of Mouths

This mouth is different. I lift the heavy whisky glass into the light and examine the imprint of the lips more closely. I am used to seeing the leavings of mout...

The Sandwich Judge

“There aren’t any sandwiches here worth eating,” you say kind of angrily, and there may not be, I’m not arguing. I’m not saying there are or there aren’t; I’m n...

Tales of the Glenwood Tap

God Bless America Bonnie Reyes was bent over in front of the jukebox, rolling her behind while she studied the selections. Mmm-mashed potatoes, Arnie Borden ...