Fiction |
“Lindy in the Park”
“I arrived at Holly’s apartment at the end of June, one week after graduation. Holly hadn’t been able to attend, she couldn’t take time from work, but she watched a recording of me crossing the stage. She saw me tossing my cap.”
Fiction |
“Reasoning”
“Once he felt old enough, he offered, ‘Why worry if it doesn’t improve or solve whatever you’re worried about?’ “’You just wait,’ she said. Now she lay on her deathbed, and he worried he couldn’t reach her — dementia.”
Fiction |
“Ecce Homo”
“She was nearing the end of book 72 in Dio Cassius, his chronicle of Ancient Rome, waiting on the line for which his book principally enjoys fame (“our history now descends from a kingdom of gold to one of iron and rust”), when she heard a disturbance in the yard.”
Fiction |
“Thinker” & “Second Chances”
“She told her husband that she was tired of pretending to be smart. She had been undone since the surgery, her thoughts short circuiting all over the place after twenty minutes of thinking.”
Fiction |
“Scavengers”
“It looked like the discarded contents of a suitcase from twenty yards. Cloth and leather. But then Francis smelled it — sweet and rancid. Sulfur and ammonia.”
Fiction |
“In the Walls”
“Mice. The realization hits me, and then I am on my knees by the bathroom sink, hands shaking and snatching at the Lorazepam I’ve spilled. Panic hits this way, like a revolver fired to your head from behind.”
Fiction |
“Plunder”
“Asal, my neighbor, was in class next door, and she told secrets about worlds I had never imagined. For instance, her twin brother and father couldn’t visit Persia anymore because ‘the army might make them fight.'”
Fiction |
“Open Mic Night”
“She had to catch it, both for its own sake — creatures like that couldn’t survive in strange habitats — and for hers, since she didn’t belong here, and so she must have something to do with the bird, another out-of-place stranger, probably in trouble. How did she get here?
Fiction |
“Is Your Heart In It?”
“The dog will be terrified. I’ll grip its lower jaw with my left hand and lift while pressing down on its neck with my right hand. It’s scary for me, too.”
Fiction |
“Notes From a Reunion”
“This was the same location where my parents ran a roadhouse that burned to the ground the year after we all graduated. My dad was in the midst of a mid-life crisis, at least that’s how he saw it.”
Fiction |
“Versions of Miriam”
“What would it be like to spend an entire night here, not waiting for anyone? The thought edged plausibility. If she was lonely and looking for a place to drive and feel unbothered, this would be the place.”
Fiction |
“The Rock of Ephyra”
“The rock was beginning to understand that each day would be different, each day bringing subtle changes in the experience of being rolled up the hill and released to forge new trails.”
Fiction |
“Toads Down Deep in the Loam”
“On the morning of his first day of school, Henry pours the water out of his thermos when his father isn’t looking and slips a toad inside. He leaves the lid loose so it can breathe and finds a cricket in the yard so it has lunch.”
Fiction |
“The Cards”
“The request for more money came through email early one morning, before Jeff was out of bed. Mark had just made a pot of coffee when his phone pinged. Chelsea’s mother is requesting an extra $1,200 for supplies to support her pregnancy …”
Fiction |
two selections from My Body is Paper
“He was already shirtless and, as he started loosening his belt, the metal buckle picked up reflections of my room, my face on the bed, my look that this will solve everything, that I can lose myself here, that I can’t let my mother rule my life.”