Category Archives: Fiction

Saying Goodbye to Seamus

Saying Goodbye to Seamus

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An Irish wake for a golden retriever. A dog they want to remember, a night they’d rather forget.
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Pinball Way

Pinball Way

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Places that have things called shot wheels, where all the bands play punk versions of popular, but dated songs. On Pinball Way all the arcades turn into discos after dark, and sound judgment is a scarce commodity. more

James, Transcendent, Everyone Else, Stuck in the Mud

James, Transcendent, Everyone Else, Stuck in the Mud

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When Mary finds him, she’s going to punish him. He will inadvertently disarm her probably, she knows, imagining a headfirst hug at the bottom of the slide, a tangled pile, wheezing and wild with laughter. The smiling cherub laughs, anger wilts.more

Hyperbolic Doubt and Wherever After To Discover The Truth Behind That Some Timely and Malignant Demon Bad Luck

Hyperbolic Doubt and Wherever After To Discover The Truth Behind That Some Timely and Malignant Demon Bad Luck

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One man recounts the events surrounding his friend’s doomed relationship.more

Don Vargas. Wedding Guest.

Don Vargas. Wedding Guest.

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In the aftermath of the clipped conversation with the musician came a full accounting of Don Vargas’s life. He’d grown up a few clicks north of upper middle class in an all-white suburb of Rochester, New York. His childhood was full of overnight summer camps, golf lessons, then golf camps when the golf took. Atmore

What’s the Matter in Texas?

What’s the Matter in Texas?

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“Everything screams before it dies.”more

Quarry Day

Quarry Day

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When I asked, Cody told me he liked to take the back roads to the quarry because they took longer. “More time getting paid to sit down,” he said. I’d let him drive so I could pencil out a new bid. We were just north of Greenfield, past the tree nurseries and orchards, about tomore

Loaf

Loaf

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How does pre-packaged bread affect romance? J.D. Smith offers one possibility.more

The Battle of the Sexes

The Battle of the Sexes

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Life is life and fun is fun, but it’s all so quiet after the female praying mantis eats her male.

The Gun I Used To Own

The Gun I Used To Own

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I’m upright in my bed day-dreaming that I could fall asleep when I’m interrupted by the clash of a couple, drunken, presumably, skirmishing beneath my bedroom window— the pair are shouting acrimonious words back-and-forth like a tennis match drenched in gin and hatred. I can’t discern the source of their disagreement, but from the woman’smore