Short Story
Writing
The Swirling Eddies of Eigengrau
By Joey WuYou are trapped.
One day you awoke: a homunculus, immersed in a deep chasm of dark. You wander the confines in solitude, following the faint and ever-so-often beep that resonates through your lonely chamber.
Letters 4-4 A.D.
By Bowie BladeeLetters 4-4 A.D.
“Supersoaker, LG Smart Refrigerator,” par II
I hope you enjoyed my soliloquy. And I know you did--your mouth is practically open right now. Practically open... Yeah. I'm jotting that down.
A Girl with Insomnia and a Fast Car
By Ruby CullenJessie’s nights have been difficult for as long as she can remember.
Places You’ve Seen in Your Dreams
By AntonIn the mid-to-late 19th century, the city of Paris was undergoing a change. The process was called Haussmannization, and it was a campaign for the modernization of Paris.
The Man who is Lost in the Snow
By James PressdeeHe sat quietly, as he always did, in the living room, upon his large grey sofa, his mug resting on the large grey table, and all of the furniture in that large grey room rested peacefully atop a large grey carpet that absorbed the gradual ageing of his living there.
Cigarette Constellations
By Avalon LeeThe ink darkens, leeching my energy as I trace an index over the text. A rejection letter from California Institute of the Arts, and best regards. No better than every other art academy who also shelved my portfolio.
The letter lands neatly in the bin. I stalk to my studio.
claymation in six scenes
By Christine Baekclaymation in six scenes.
1.
Margaret finds out she is made of clay when she presses into the crook of her elbow and pulls the flesh right off.
2.
a story in the perspective of the love interest
By Julie PhamA STORY IN THE PERSPECTIVE OF THE LOVE INTEREST
the director says start, and you come to life like an automaton. a blink, and
A Piece Of Me Died On the 1 Train
By Rachel ShelaOk, so it’s mid April during Spring break and you’re on the wretched 1 train. You get on at 28th street after a sleepover with your best friend who, in 11 months, will no longer be your friend. You find a seat next to a robust woman who we’re going to call Katelyn.
St. Jude
By Grace AshleyThe parking lot felt stagnant as Jude walked across empty yellow lines. The air was weighted with the cold, heavy enough that it almost seemed like the cloud of her breath dispersed down rather than up. The lights flickered above her head with a steady, fly-like buzz.
Familiar Hands
By Oli RayTime’s hands are surprisingly familiar for all the change they bring. Their grasp is a feeling we all know and yet always seem to forget until they put us a down.
Something to Care For
By AnonymousEvery Saturday, after work, I visit my grandmother at her nursing home. It’s about a half an hour drive to get there, but it’s worth the drive. Grandma G isn’t the normal nursing home type you’d think of: sweet, unsuspecting, a kind of elderly innocence.
Blood, White, and Blue: February 2003
By Catherine StrayhallIt’s been more than 30 years since Nam. It’s been about 20 years since the Wall went up, but this is my first time visiting it. Right now, my nephew, Robin, is headed to Kuwait, and probably soon, Iraq, for another war.
The Wish Garden: an excerpt
By Andie DavidsonA mindless leaf fluttered out of nowhere and perched on my sandaled foot. In the distance, a disorganized medley of birdsong made up an unrehearsed orchestra. Idyllic as it was, I was in the middle of a fairly typical snapshot of spring.
Past Memories: an excerpt
By Grant Hampton Glover“Hostile vehicle moving to desired location, ”Ryan heard his spotter and put his handheld bible back into his shirt pocket. Ryan’s face was smeared with camouflage paint, and his rifle was covered in a rifle wrap, with his Ghillie suit covering the rest of his body.
Screaming Secrets : A view from
By Jillian BeyerShe fell on top of me, burrowed her face in my fluff, hands smacking the down inside of me, legs kicking, wriggling, growing restless at the foot. Every night I gave her comfort, she told me her secrets, whispered in the meekest of voices of the taunts and the teases and the tortures of the day.
Still Life
By Haley Renee BornI’m sitting in the middle of nowhere, on a hill looking toward the horizon. No tripod, just crossed legs and my elbows resting on my knees, holding an old camera filled with darkroom film.
Mayland
By Isabelle ShachtmanYou ask me If I know the way back home from here. I sing the words, “yes, dear” back to you like I’m someone else. You say “alright” because you’ve got nothing else to say right now; I respect that. I keep my eyes on the road. I’m not quite sure where you’re looking at this point