More short stores
By Ronald C. Paxton My name is Danny Lee Truluck, but you can call me Mud. Everyone does. Mama used to get a big kick out of that. I remember when I was little she would pretend to be mad at me and say, “Danny Lee, your name is mud.”…
By Beatriz Seelaender I want to do that Walden shitsomewhere covered in ice sheetsI climbed every highest mountain and stillhaven’t been able to reach mother superior’s solo’s note when she sings Nature as a nice scene on my tv screenNature as Animal Planet plus popcorn for breakfast on a Sunday…
By Laury A. Egan Dean removed the black velvet box from his pocket, flipped open the lid, and admired the ring. White gold with a tiny, Asscher-cut diamond. Simple, elegant, and expensive. It had cost over $2,000, which was more than he could afford, yet nothing was too good for…
By Julian Koslow Late afternoon in the face-reddening chillour long-legged shadows rundown the library field, when every playis “go long” for the last hour,every drive the incrediblelast-minute comeback drive. In the fast-ripening, soon-falling, leaf-pile-scented November light, geesewing a flying wedge acrossthe honking air, our shoutsflocking after them throughthe blue Hail…