Fiction
Story of the Week
The fish’s eye is mangled, tugged inward; blood leaks from its gills.
Story of the Week
The church was clearly the work of a madman driven crazy by the wind.
Story of the Week
Did Sharon and Roy make it harder or easier for their mother to leave?
Winter Contest Winners
You think I couldn’t write it because I look like a mechanic, I said.
Fiction
Cory only hires stoners so he has something on them if they try blackmail.
Story of the Week
“She showed me her tits,” said Jimmy. “Bullshit!” said Frank.
Fiction
I was nagged by those boxes from my old life stacked in the garage.
Story of the Week
“Tell me about the things you can’t tell me about when I’m dressed.”
Story of the Week
You can’t ask her not to fall in love when she does it on a daily basis.
Story of the Week
“We don’t feel like a couple. Haven’t felt like a couple for a very long while.”
Story of the Week
What felt like sanctity now felt like nothingness, like death.
Story of the Week
He smelled like the bars my mother took me to in the middle of the day.
iStories
She looks at them through eyes flattened by a confused life.
iStories
Was that lipstick on Don’s cheek? This was too much for her to take.
Story of the Week
The purple-eyed women on her mom’s side began generations ago.
Story of the Week
It’s like having your parents in the room. Patrolling our sleep, our sex life.
Fiction
My mother hoped moving would erase the affair with a married man.
Fall Contest Winners
The transformation of their maid from shadow to sexpot thrills Maizie.
Fiction
I used to be known for the humor of my music, the lightness of touch.
Fall Contest Winners
She had boyfriends before she met him. Well, not really boyfriends.
N30B Winners
Her sly smile was a vicious remnant of her life before Real Life began.
Story of the Week
Keaton didn’t control his emotions; he put them to use.
Story of the Week
Trailblazers we celebrate. Those outcasts, outliers, and outlaws.
Story of the Week
My head was muffled in velvet, my body exposed in an old slip.
Story of the Week
Pale dust clung to their skin like the lime he had thrown on the dead.
Classics, Story of the Week
Upon his supine monstrous shape there was a colossal inertia.
Fiction
Ivan rolled his eyes, and looked at the sky like someone about to be martyred.
Fiction
The suite cost as much as a two-pound brick of Panama Red.
