Category Archives: Fiction

Womanhood

Ever since Grandpa died, Ambuya—Grandma rations her affection in morsels, like the last bits of beef in a stew. Some to Daddy, her first son, less to Mummy, the one who stole him from her bosom. It’s almost as if … Continue reading

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My friends and I are talking about Valentine’s Day

My friends and I are talking about Valentine’s Day. We’re arguing about chocolate and cards and capitalism and corporate greed. We’re asking if one rose is enough and if 12 is overkill and what the second-most romantic flower is. The … Continue reading

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Everything Must Fall

Five-year-old Gracie was gone by the time the turkey vultures arrived. The last time I saw her she was wrapped in a twist of blankets inside the tent, playing with fabric scraps and a wooden doll. Her little hands fluttered … Continue reading

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A Doe in the Branches

It was a white-tailed deer, a doe about a year old, and its limbs seemed inextricably mingled with the limbs of a century-old sugar maple on the corner of Pine Street and Oak Avenue. The new leaves, the size of … Continue reading

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Father Loved All Of Us Equally

i. Four dogs down rot away sunk in the mud. That river ain’t worth damn a nickel and I’ve known men said that. Rot and waste not more than two things taken away when she come down and call me … Continue reading

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A Common Shrine

The old Excelsior Hotel on Highsmith and 3rd. An invulnerable brick butte, a real bunker of a place, its extravagant furnishings all rampaged by a fire back in ’07. The skeleton stands there for years afterward looking hardly scathed. A … Continue reading

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Accumulation

She has not responded to his calls for nearly a half-hour. “Dorothy?” he pleads again, raising his voice, as if this might assist his search for her presence. No response. As a fallback, Parker taps his index finger on the … Continue reading

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