The Unknowing Boy followed the Fuck-You Kid onto the bridge. The moon provided light for their footsteps but cast the train tracks below in deeper shadow. The Oklahoma wind tossed the trees back and forth, filling the air with a… Continue Reading
Dear Nick, It’s been a day of snow and night and the hush of steel runners against ice, as I head south through the Arctic. I’ve taken sleigh number four (you don’t use it much) and two of the retired… Continue Reading
Itzhak poured another finger of bourbon for the tragic man sitting in front of him. The people who came into his bar on Christmas Eve were almost always tragic. Drunks who’d alienated their families, old men with nobody left, or… Continue Reading
My opponent had been sitting at the board for a good half hour, and still hadn’t moved. I shifted uneasily in my chair. There were only two or three moves from which he could sensibly choose, so what was he… Continue Reading
I stood in a circle of cross-legged children, clutching the delicate menorah out in front of me, afraid of dropping it. My mother had carefully wrapped it in tissue paper to keep it safe on the ride to school. “Be… Continue Reading
I try not to make eye contact, squeeze into the crowded elevator. Fasten the last button on my trench coat to conceal my naked breasts. Poncho whimpers as I attach the leash to his collar, so I kiss his round… Continue Reading
I was walking through downtown San Jose, passing the Convention Center, when I saw a man wearing a business suit, long overcoat, and bright red Converse sneakers. The suit looked like it fit him well, a bit rumpled in places,… Continue Reading
I exited the funeral home. Outside, the summer sky was orange and blue. Cars honked every other minute, as they usually did downtown. The air smelled of gardenias, piss, and weed. A handful of my cousins were crouched behind bushes… Continue Reading
Your great-grandson Justin is coming over. You pull out the secret candy stash, hidden from your daughter who worries after your diabetes. Your hands creak and crack as you shuffle cards onto the spotless oak table Jack bought you. The… Continue Reading
At seven that morning, as she did every morning before work, Alma Day lit a candle for her husband and set it on the small altar she had made for him in her grief support group. Then she walked to… Continue Reading