Story Archives

, | By Chris Wiewiora

[ March 30, 2015 ]

Submerged

In the tank, you watch the whale circle behind you. You tilt your head around trying to follow him in the water. Yellow streams of sunlight cascade over the black and white torpedo that is coming at you. Today, Dawn Brancheau will drown during a clear, sunny afternoon toward the end of the “Believe” orca …

| By Liesbeth Wieggers

[ March 23, 2015 ]

The Scent of Blond Curls

In the throng for the tram she allows herself to be pushed back again and again and ends up getting on last. Most of the passengers stay near the door but Esther presses her way through the tightly-packed crowd. It is drizzling outside and a layer of droplets glistens on scarves, jackets, people’s hair. Esther …

[ March 18, 2015 ]

Writing Is a Basic Moral Function: An Interview with Steve Almond

On his Othrppl podcast, Brad Listi calls Steve Almond, “a really good priest.” Although it’s hard to picture Almond’s lanky frame in a vestment, his long neck in a starched white clerical collar, there are a few humans who call him father. Steve is forty-eight, a father of three, with twelve books under his belt …

, | By Kevin St. Jarre

[ March 16, 2015 ]

Fishes and Time

Fish can drown. Well, they suffocate in water in which there is little or no oxygen dissolved but, technically, water suffocates humans as well. The gills of fish can even process oxygen from the air but the delicate structures dry and are destroyed and then the animal dies. We can’t take a single breath under …

, | By Amanda Avutu

[ March 9, 2015 ]

The Bad Sleep

We met Officer Hughes the first day Henry had a “Bad Sleep,” that’s what we call it, because it sounds a lot less menacing than “night terrors.” Henry was about two hours into his nap. I was working out back in the studio when he screamed so loudly that Tabitha Peyton, two doors over, called …

, | By John Thornton Williams

[ March 2, 2015 ]

Something Close

The thirty-aught-six dangled loose as a length of rope from the boy’s arm while he high-stepped through the weed-choked yard. He gripped the rifle by its forestock, and as he went it tilted like a lever, ground and sky alike passing between its sights. Occasionally the aim of its barrel crossed paths with his face. …

, | By Christine No

[ February 23, 2015 ]

Reminder

  My thighs touch too close for comfort. Hip bones buried in my sides, old handlebars or the bronze gates to a hungry woman. Pull, she says, come closer. I do not bleed, anymore I maneuver this daunting vessel and I am starved. Please, come closer. I want to disappear with the reptiles My large …

, | By Liz Haberkorn

[ February 16, 2015 ]

Bringing In The Dog

The wheels on the bike squeaked rhythmically as she headed home, passing yellow buses stopped at the streetlight in front of the middle school. Occasionally friends in window seats called out from the buses, or classmates who recognized her and just wanted to be loud. She waved back, feeling like Miss Teen USA. She was …

, | By Mary Lannon

[ February 9, 2015 ]

Frank N. Stein

It’s true I made you up as I went along. All the more reason, I say, that I should be able to make you go away when I want. But you have proved to have a solidity not normally associated with the imaginary realm. I know that when we first met you were just an …

, | By Jason Jones

[ February 2, 2015 ]

Isaac

Her child was a savage child, and when he was grown, they had to migrate with the seasons to keep his savagery in check, the birds passing south in the sky as they went north. The cold, it seemed, could dull his instincts, mitigate the bloodlust, but too much and his core temperature dropped. He’d …