“Yentl” is my favorite short story. Sort of. Let me explain. There’s a joke that the question a reader/writer hates most is also the most frequently asked: “what’s your favorite book.” Or “what’s your favorite short story?” It’s such a personal question. The answer has everything to do with who I am deep down; who…
Tag: fiction
What about the Rain?
It was misting again. It felt like it was always misting, making everything constantly damp and unpleasant while weighing the air down. The young woman quietly pulled out a cigarette and lit it, feeling guilty and rebellious at the same time. She knew smoking was bad, but she didn’t care. It gave her an excuse…
First Big Night
CW: Today’s story is a work of fiction which deals with intimate partner violence and its aftermath. It is also suggested that one character may be a sex worker. Please skip this piece if you need to. If you’re comfortable sharing it, pass it along. If you or someone you know has questions about, or…
Remnants from the Attic
It had to be a mistake. Ivo scrolled back up the page to give the listing another thorough look-over. It was titled Toystill in box, but Ivo knew it for what it really was. An original 1993 Megazord deluxe set. Hemicro-examined the grainy thumbnail, poring over every pixel of the pristine box. A globule offlashlight…
Saadat Hassan Manto: “The Assignment”
Author’s notes: Content warnings for self-harm, political violence, sexual violence. I consistently refer to Manto’s hometown as “Bombay” rather than Mumbai. I do this for two reasons. The lesser reason is that “Bombay” is simply Portuguese for “Beautiful Bay,” whereas Mumbai is short for “Mumbadevi” and the change was made in 1995 at the instigation…
The Joplin Tornado
1 When the dust settled and the sky opened up into a blue and white tapestry, one who had their eyes glued to the sky would not have known what had happened yesterday. It would only be when they took their eyes off the sky and onto the wet streets that they would realize what…
Losing your Grip
The coffee cup shattered on the kitchen tiles, shards exploding to all corners of the room. The thick black liquid turned amber on the sand-coloured floor, an elegant splat that moulded itself into something like a crescent moon. Alastair stood there for a moment, bemused. This had never happened before. Oh he had knocked a…
The Lore of Rich Kid Drugs
Reggie declared that rich kids like opiates from their parents’ medicine cabinets and buy Adderall from the back pocket of another private school kid and snort coke off of smooth knuckles. Nobody gets arrested; they get sent to rehab. “Weed,” Reggie proclaimed, standing on the break room couch for his lecture’s finale, “Is whattells these…
Moved
Delilah’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. It frustrated her. As a Surveyor at the Glass Park, she was meant to look firm. Slightly intimidating. Most of the time, the park was closed off to the public. Countless bottles laid out across the land. Daffodils stood inside; fragile, but incredibly important. On the first day of spring,…
The Story Behind the 2 Rules of Writing
A lot has been going on at the website in the last few weeks. We took on an intern, Blossom Akpojisheri of Port Harcourt, Nigeria. We’re sorting things out with a photo editor, Allegra Boverman. And the website became financially self-sustaining. It’s a lot to celebrate all at once. Considering Erika and I founded this…