Fiction

The sleep lab's in an annex, the hospital receptionist — a warty man — had told Celia, in the quadrangle, can't miss it, pointing her down the white-lit lobby toward the back doors, but under ...

It’s a fine time to be born with feet all over your body, though it does increase parental workload with so many little socks to wash, dry, and sort. In adult life, except during ceremonial ...

Linnet smells the enticing scent of baking bread and smiles. It is 5:30 a.m., and the baker below her apartment is right on time.  Outside the sky is still dark. The birds are only beginning ...

Listen to "Altar" as narrated by the author I was walking down Bushwick Avenue to do my radio show, as I do every Sunday morning. I noticed an idling rusted out pickup truck, sitting next to ...

If a pin dropped, she wouldn’t be able to hear it. It was Christmas, her first with a man that she wanted her family to meet.  She'd come straight home from college. She’d taken the ...

The world burns. The sun stalks. Can life be sustained off a window sill’s moisture, a lead pipe’s sweat? Someone spills the orange juice we’ve been rationing. It spread more sunshine across the room. We ...