Stories
Story of the Week
The blade was buried to the hilt in the outside corner of his left eye.
Fiction
He was regarded as a visionary and a fool in almost equal measure.
Fiction
Here is my father on the last day of his exceptionally long life.
Story of the Week
I pictured myself as a chart inside her head. Two sides: good and bad.
Story of the Week
I’ve made a rigorous effort. But it’s been hard, this hug embargo.
Story of the Week
So scrimping on scratch-offs and candy bars, I saved pennies.
Story of the Week
People didn’t end marriages without warning, without second chances.
Story of the Week
“Your mom is awake,” I said. “You need to go in and see her.”
Winter Contest Winners
To be married is to learn to love, captive in your own new country.
Story of the Week
They couldn’t go to the Manson family caves because of nuclear radiation.
Fall Contest Winners
Overnight, somebody had dumped a dead pit bull in the trash bin.
Story of the Week
She weighed the cold shiny gun on her palm and let out a jagged breath.
Story of the Week
“Tell me that everything will be okay,” I whispered to the photo.
Fall Contest Winners
It was where salvation often lay in little more than a piece of duct tape.
Classics
The person was seeing his printed face superimposed over his real one.
Story of the Week
A nearly perfect guitar fell from the sky and landed in my mom’s azaleas.
Fiction
I put my arm around Larry’s shoulders and ask him to pull over.
Story of the Week
“The rattlesnakes glow in the dark, man. You should see them.”
Story of the Week
He wondered how others lived with their sins. Maybe they never did.
Story of the Week
Having his ex-wife in the house was a distraction. He forgot to grieve.
Fiction
Clayton always imagined getting laid in the rooms of his dad’s motel.
Winter Contest Winners
Phuong feared that she was nothing but a regret born into flesh.
Fiction
He will, no doubt, be out of this house soon, headed over to Montgomery.
Story of the Week
If someone looked into his eyes they would see how ugly his mind was.
Fiction
She examines her left hand, finger by finger, gripping and pinching the flesh.
Story of the Week
He hit all of us sometimes, but he hit me hardest and the most.
Story of the Week
Lorna was like a sculpture carved by some Greek out of marble.
