Fiction
by Leslie Jamison.
“God knows my father did his share of speed, but it was the smoking that finally got him.”
by Joan Malerba-Foran.
“I’ve never been what you would call a good sleeper. I make it through the night about twice a week, and those nights are never consecutive.”
by Trenton Streeting.
“After my father’s disk sander had whirred to halt, he turned to me and gestured majestically. ‘Matthew, the work is always the best pay.'”
by John Thompson.
“I did a little time once. It wasn’t a long bit, but that doesn’t matter much. Time is time.”
by Robert Oldshue.
“You know how it is. You think you’re married, you’re married to Albie forty-two, what is it, forty-three years, so at least you know Albie. Right?”
by Ilana Stanger.
“’Dina,’ she said, ‘you’re the least romantic person I know. For you to be a wedding photographer is too hilarious to pass up.’”
by Cori Baill.
“All that time I’ve been working here, mopping the floors, emptying the trash, washing down rooms, and watching the wet-behind-the-ears young pup doctors learn their business.”
by Yalitza Ferreras.
“Aunt #1’s plastic toilet lid shifts under Manolo’s weight as he balances his left ankle on his right knee, careful so his leg doesn’t slide off his sweatpants.”
by Ron Rindo.
“Two months after the loss of my only child, whose death—for which I am responsible—came in an unspeakable manner, I stand in line at the gas station, waiting to pay for my gas.”