Category Archives: Fiction

The Silence of Small Rooms

The Silence of Small Rooms

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The elevator is full to bursting. Intolerably hot is how you would describe it, if pressed. Wall to wall. Elbow meet elbow. You’re eyeballing the orderlies and patients and visitors all around you, trying to dead-reckon their weight and then compare to the oxidated inspection plaque that lists the elevator’s carrying capacity as Max 4more

HARVEST

HARVEST

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But Myers always wanted to quit the mine that he worked full time for, to fold his workpants up, shove them into the woodstove, beat across Field’s Church Road down to the riverbank, and slowly drown himself, strangling on the water, washing the ash and dust out of his eardrums, and die in a pure way, natural, so he wouldn’t end up dirty like his father, hanging from the main beam, filthy as a day’s work. more

Michael

Michael

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homeless sheltermore

A Convenient Funeral

A Convenient Funeral

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If you wanna be cool…more

Because of Me

Because of Me

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Valentine’s fell on a Saturday that year and I was off work, but I went where I worked with Gimbel anyways. Why, either went like this: we were stoned, and I wanted donut holes, and Gimbel knew some girls we could fuck later, and we went to Pick & Save for donut holes and condoms,more

Angel

Angel

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Because angels don’t drift down from heaven but once on a Tuesday evening in a steady rain to watch steam rise from coffee and listen to “American Pie” on the jukebox. more

Bolt Train

Bolt Train

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I go until the train runs out of track. It’s comforting. I know the route well enough to find it so. You have all the exhilaration of escape alongside the knowledge that the train turns around again, looping back home.   I do this when I’m anxious—it’s like cross-hatching on a page over and over,more

Cutting

Cutting

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I found my father’s bed at the end of the corridor. A nurse held his pallid arm up to the light. She adjusted one of the tubes and lowered his arm back to his side. In the neighboring bed, a man older than my father was connected to beeping monitors. He followed me with his eyes. Landis and my mom turned their heads as the nurse walked out.

“What are you doing here?” asked Landis.more

They Called Me The Virgin

They Called Me The Virgin

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If plans can take on a life of their own, I think it follows that they can have a birth and death as well. more

The Children of Charlemagne

The Children of Charlemagne

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I needed to love so I chose the girl in the backyard who looked like my sister.more