Tag: Fiction

by Abhishek Udaykumar It was when she said ‘subliminal,’ one afternoon, that I found myself quite still. Once again – in the cool corridors, like a mired leaf still staggering after autumn. She had said nothing after that. I listened to the carpeted choir that rose to the ceiling. Fitting myself perfectly in a zeitgeist…

by Grace Jaycox Your father ushers you up on the stage with three other people, one of which is your mother. You look up at her as she adjusts the microphone so it’s the right height for her. The fact that you’re too small to reach any of the microphones was supposed to be a…

by Gary Zenker “It’s not whether it actually works or not,” my cousin Seymour explains enthusiastically, “but whether it has the possibility of working.” That was the basis for all of his success and for the failures of anyone whom he encountered. Possibility and faith. “I know it will work given the right conditions.” I…

by Devin James Leonard It was after midnight and had been storming since the start of Buckley and Teale’s three-hundred-mile drive across New York State. Two hours into their journey, just outside the Winona State Forest, the snow blanketed the road, causing the wheels to lose traction and slide unpredictably. This was dangerous weather for…

by Travis Flatt “I dare you,” the day nurse, Kaylee, says. For the tenth time, I’ve warned her of the severity of my seizures. It’s easy to understand how Kaylee, who’s a student, twenty-three at most, cat-eyed, jet black-hair, knuckle-bitingly gorgeous, might provoke a man here on the Monitoring Unit to brag like he’s the…

by Babak Movahed Why don’t you talk about it? There’s not much to talk about. My childhood was mostly normal, certainly not traumatic. Struggle is an inevitability of upbringing. We’re not made to perfection, some divine replica of God’s image. No. Flaws are woven in the fabric of who we are. Fathers and sons, cut…

by Peter Conrad Everything I thought I knew has changed: the coal mine is closing, and today is the last for Rob. He is laid off permanently. We are getting a good price for the house as a part of the settlement. We must be out in a month. It’s too fast, I am still…

by Erin Jamieson When I think of my dad, I always return to the image of a single purple balloon, violently shaking in the wind. A balloon from my sixth birthday, days after a bad infection that kept me in bed for a week, with a winking face and bulbous sharpie eyes. Having an NG…