selected by Sara Crowley

Shadow Puppetry

That was the summer I had an affair with the girl who collected shadows. You might think she was doing it for some deep and meaningful reason (an art project, m...

We Are Part of This

I We sit in our circle of twelve, working on our dolls, the dinky central fire doing its best against the April damp. Then Greta puts on her robe and leaves t...

Communion

I wake with my period, first since the miscarriage. I wake to the sound of my daughter Lucy talking to herself with her Barbies, saying troubling little things....

Balk

I’d like to think it was out of genuine concern that my father pulled me away from playing with my sister’s dolls to stand out with him in the autumn air. We fa...

A Field of White

On one of those rare mornings when I’m alone, not haggling over Cheerios and milk, stuffing kids into coats and hats before haul-assing out the door to drop the...

Three Likely Stories

1. The man sat in a booth, rolling a peach from hand to hand. A waitress pushing a mop called to him that it was closing time. But I haven't ordered yet, he ...

How to Spot the Portly Man

Disposition: The portly man is generally more benign than the rawboned man because cells in the portly man’s body contain organisms called Ludobites, which w...

What Do You Know About Love?

She had touched many skins, but none like yours. Yours was the edge of something else. Your skin was your own, but also hers. She would struggle with this as sh...