We believe students and readers everywhere deserve a great and free modern library, inside of which they can get deliriously, entertainingly, profoundly lost. And found.
Stories
Story of the Week
Of late a graduate student named Cassius has joined our ranks.
Fiction
I felt that this maternal oblivion could be the rest of my life.
Story of the Week
The division of the community had become more marked than ever.
Story of the Week
The King’s affair was supposed to be a secret. But you know how it is.
Fiction
There in the trees, swinging from branch to branch, they saw Pete.
Story of the Week
The cottage stood as a metaphor for what she wanted out of life.
Story of the Week
In time the squirrel who was my friend is my friend no longer.
Story of the Week
It was as if my dead husband was flowing within me now, like blood.
Story of the Week
Our remarks must be tempered by a sense of cooperation.
Fiction
Don’t tell him you’re a virgin, says Peggy. You’ll freak him out.
Classics
I have to say I am relieved it is over: at the end I could feel only pity.
Poem of the Week
We went flying without a map as naked astronauts often do.
Poem of the Week
In that great darkness could I explain anything, anything at all.
Poem of the Week
We buy a bag of cockles and three crabs, all female, sweet with egg.
Story of the Week
A gift tells you who you are and what you’re not in the eyes of others.
Story of the Week
He was nervous and ill at ease, but my bearing seemed to reassure him.
Fiction
He’s clear about his wishes: to die in this house, in his own bed.
Fiction
If there was any magic in his sad life, it happened on that day.
Fiction
When the coach called again, Wayne felt his temper slipping.
Story of the Week
They danced only with one another and did not speak to white boys.
Story of the Week
Ambition and coincidence had led me to the Royal Theatre.
Fiction
He’s got a nice, deep kind of voice. He doesn’t sound redneck at all.
Story of the Week
His mind was a glass vase shat-
tered into pieces across the floor.
tered into pieces across the floor.
Poem of the Week
The danger of the shirt—always, every moment, it is so obvious.
Poem of the Week
The day holds a cup of milk and sits on the couch, legs tucked up.
Story of the Week
We shall still cherish in our hearts the memory of those dead.
Classics
“I can’t die, I don’t want to die, I love life,” Prince Andrei thought.
Story of the Week
My own experience is that the more we study Art, the less we care for Nature.
