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Showing results for Fiction

July 1, 2008 | Fiction

I Speak Spanish From the Tops of Pyramids

Chris Bowen

Miguel speaks Spanish and I speak Spanish and Miguel has no idea I do. He lays block while I bring block and still he has no idea. Calling me a perro. He laughs and jokes with the other migrant

June 1, 2008 | Fiction

Psychology, Cooking, Chemistry

C.A. Conrad

ADLERIAN THEORY

A little girl in a red princess-style coat with a checkered lining, aged three. She's on tiptoe on the back seat of the Chevy, a red and white finned '57. That's what I remember

June 1, 2008 | Fiction

What Things Are Made OF

Kelly Spitzer

Here is the house. Its siding contains asbestos. Its paint contains lead. This is what we were told every time we got caught sneaking out the window in the middle of the night. As if disease and

June 1, 2008 | Fiction

To Save the Dying

Jason Jordan

"Sometimes things aren't supposed to change," Billy would say, lying in bed while rubbing my back, when we got to talking about the town, about how unfortunate it all was, how opportunity had gone

June 1, 2008 | Fiction

Overnight

Paul Silverman

We were just out of Williams driving to Flagstaff in the dead of winter in the dead of night when one of us, the driver, shouted the rest of us awake and said he just saw one honker of an elk in

May 1, 2008 | Fiction

The Old In and Out Odyssey

Frayn Masters

There was no place to get it on.


There are bulky strange men in the kitchen, they are laying new black and white tile. It is daylight out, so that limits the possibilities. The proximity of

May 1, 2008 | Fiction

Slaves

Bonnie ZoBell

The unruly ferns creeping over the porch of the grand old house in Selma, Alabama, didn't fool Allie. Nor the lacy vines hugging the walls and roof. Old money. Unlike the transience of bungalow

May 1, 2008 | Fiction

House of Words

Scott Tomford

The Living Room

 

This is where we watch TV, where we entertain guests and let them add to the walls. You can see some of the words from the last dinner party on the ceiling if you look

May 1, 2008 | Fiction

My Son Thinks He's French

Patrick Wensink

My son thinks he's French.

His accent was cute at first, but it's starting to get on my nerves. If he asks for another glass of Beaujolais I'm gonna go to jail for child abuse.

Yesterday, I

April 1, 2008 | Fiction

I'd Do It Again, Too

Grant Stoye

Cory glares at me across the room. His left eye is swollen and purple. If you look closely you can see his veins throb as they pump blood to his stupid, beedy-eyed, cat's asshole of a face.

His

April 1, 2008 | Fiction

Not Just Another Day at the Ballpark

Jim Ruland

If the game of baseball is a narrative in numbers, try this one on for size: on Saturday March 30, 2008, 115,300 people showed up at Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum for an exhibition game between the

April 1, 2008 | Fiction

The Dark One

Daniel McArdle

I Telltale
My dad still has the lanky, deceptively thin frame typical of most pitchers, with long, gibbon-like arms – he is 6'2' but wears 37' shirt sleeves, giving him the reach of a man four

April 1, 2008 | Fiction

The Tools of Ignorance

Nick Mainieri

I've seen em all.

The pretty boys with all the talent and not an ounce of sack.

The Latinos so flashy they trick you into thinking they're good.

The fake hustlers who got everybody

April 1, 2008 | Fiction

Flies

Roy Kesey

A friend once told me a story about a kid he'd known who played right field and caught flies. Not fly balls – this kid hated Little League, hated his father for making him play, was afraid of the

April 1, 2008 | Fiction

I've Got Dreams to Remember

Andrew Bomback

To the editor: 

I enjoyed your baseball preview issue but wholeheartedly disagree with your predictions for the National League East. If you look at the schedules for both the Mets and the

March 1, 2008 | Fiction

Of Modern Bags

Dave Prescott

I had worked in a bottle factory, a bottle-top factory, a paper factory, a nut factory, a bolt factory, a clock factory, a wall factory, a door factory, a window factory, a whisky factory, a wheel

March 1, 2008 | Fiction

At the Zoo

Dan Pinkerton

Tom had been promising for some time to take Stevie to the zoo, and today was the day. He paid their admission and the two entered the zoo grounds, passing the gift shop, built to resemble an

March 1, 2008 | Fiction

Lopped Off

Robert Repino

I wanna have cool recurring dreams, ones that'll make me sound smart when I describe them to people. Right now, I only have the same dreams everyone else has -- you know, where your teeth fall out,

March 1, 2008 | Fiction

Diagnosis

Mary Miller

Her heart swells like someone turned a faucet on. It is enormous. A fast-moving cloud of blackbirds dissipates into the trees. Or are they bats. They're at the zoo. It is the same as the bowling

February 1, 2008 | Fiction

Yesterday

Nick Ripatrazone

7:13 

Tate found a sawbuck turtle near the metal shed. He called inside for me. I sat at the kitchen table, a napkin spread across my lap, ketchup from the bacon and egg sandwich swabbed along

February 1, 2008 | Fiction

Happy Hour

Len Joy

After work on Fridays we'd usually go over to The Holly on 27th for a beer.

One night I'm working late so I don't get there till seven. Quigley is sitting at the bar in his usual place. I take

February 1, 2008 | Fiction

Daddy

Michael Hemmingson

His name is David and he's in the hospital with a lot of things stuck in his arms, nodes pasted to his chest, tubes going into his nostrils and mouth. He has been staring at the TV for

February 1, 2008 | Fiction

Roy G. Biv

Jared Ward

I'm a big fan of blue. The dark, deep blues. Like that James Taylor song, deep greens and blues are the colors I choose. Green's nice, too, but I prefer blue.

Don't know if I could call it my

January 1, 2008 | Fiction

Ninth Grade

John Michael Cummings

Up to our lunch room table came the newest, biggest loser in the ninth grade -- Intercom! We called him Intercom because he wore a big bolt-like hearing aid that, protruding from his ear, made him

January 1, 2008 | Fiction

The Good Cents of Security

Greg Boose

Earl Jenkins was a security guard at PNC Park where the Pittsburgh Pirates play baseball. Every time he worked one of the sidelines, right down on the field, and he snagged a foul ball, he

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