Fiction
Fiction
Five dark shapes loped after the car. Dogs—as far as the eye could see.
Story of the Week
They would find certain and awful death in Afghanistan.
Fiction
This is not deception. This is a subtle way of conditioning.
Fiction
I am eleven years old and too young to die, but I am dying nonetheless.
Story of the Week
How shocking it was to discover these real things were not real.
Classics
All these and security were within. Without was the “Red Death.”
iStories
If, on your deathbed, you want to watch a movie, don’t let me pick.
Story of the Week
Miss Moses smiled, I could take you, buster. Don’t try anything with me.
Story of the Week
Jane’s made it clear, this Renuka might not even become a doctor.
Story of the Week
Your mother still glows with a smoothness that you envy.
Classics
He always talked of making money with the air of a connoisseur.
Fiction
She was no man’s dark dream, only a girl forced to swim half-clothed.
Story of the Week
She accused her husband with great drama of having destroyed her life.
Story of the Week
“I mean it, Martín. I won’t marry a man with a bald lip, like a boy.”
Fiction
The child is too perfect to be human; too perfect, truthfully, to exist.
Fiction
The stupider the president the more power you arrange for him.
Story of the Week
I hadn’t even tried. I was one of the few kids D.A.R.E. had worked on.
Story of the Week
He only told the world what the world wanted to hear from a guy who graduated from Harvard.
Story of the Week
Derek was holding a gun. The barrel was pointed at his own temple.
Fiction
Sneaking was one thing, entering a bar with a someone else’s ID another.
Story of the Week
It was a Saturday night in November when his diagnosis finally came.
Story of the Week
There was no hiding; right there on my brow was a second nose.
Classics, Story of the Week
Kitty reached the age of twenty-five and was still unmarried.
Story of the Week
I managed to talk sensible Alice into a little pink outfit and high heels.
Fiction
Part of me wished I’d never tried heroin. The rest wanted to be high.
Fiction
Just before four in the morning, the dog barks, the headlights appear.
Story of the Week
Mafia didn’t like me, except for the tickling game. It went like this.
