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So, if Rome were a senior in college, Rome would look like this: Rome has a swimmer’s body—a tight smoothness. He doesn’t shave his chest, just has that God-given sculptured body, that “I take care of myself but not in a grossly exaggerated, body-builder way.” And of course, Rome is a swimmer. He would never [...]
Arthur Bradford is an O Henry Award winning writer and Emmy-nominated filmmaker. His writing has appeared inEsquire, McSweeney’s, Vice, Men’s Journal, and many other publications. His first book, Dogwalker, was published by Knopf and Vintage paperback in 2002, and has been translated into ten languages. His latest book, Benny’s Brigade, is a children’s book, published by McSweeney’s in 2012.
My ex started seeing the sheriff and pretty soon I’m getting pulled over every time I back out of my driveway. He says the phone calls need to stop, but what should I do? I haven’t seen my boys in a dick year and it’s making me ill to think of how tall they’re getting [...]
The girl comes home from the zoo and removes the books, one by one, from the folding card table that serves as her father’s desk. She then turns it over, legs in the air, and sits on it. No one notices at first. Her sister does, but doesn’t say anything, such is their relationship; such [...]
The three-years-running champion of the Hemingway look-alike contest moves like a broken-nosed boxer, big and graceful in his size-thirteen penny-loafers. He’s 45-years older than I am, but we have a lot in common. We both drink like someday our livers are going to forgive us. We tell bad jokes punctuated by hitting each other hard [...]
She kept a simple box at the bottom of a large chest, at the foot of her bed, where she stored her linens and spare blankets. In the evenings she opened the chest and pushed aside the unused bedspreads, the heavy cloth exhaling stale lavender. She took out the box and opened it with care. [...]
The first time Sandy saw the bear, in her panic she let him inside. She and Henry were in the cabin, about to go for a walk in the woods. Standing by the cabin door, hand on the doorknob, Sandy was queerily reminded of a horror film. “If this were a movie,” she said, “we’d [...]
Julia Slavin is the author of The Woman Who Cut Off Her Leg At the Maidstone Club and Other Stories and Carnivore Diet.
“I do not belong here! I miss the sea!”
His baby daughter had slept so much, as all do, and when she was awake, it seemed as though she could see.
She’s here because Troy has not, would not, be so stupid as to say he is in love with her.
Returned to Korea, the land that belonged once to you, owned you, lost you.
He ran until his knees sang and his ankles drooped into rainbows.
In the backseat the sister, who will one day become a sodden wife occupying the largest house in a college town, hits her younger brother. He reacts without thinking and punches her back: one solid thump on her gingham thigh. Indignation, stronger because it is unjustified, singes the sister’s pale complexion. Although she is in [...]
Julie found it a nice distraction from death to fixate on her engagement ring.
The young nurse, in seafoam green, asks me to rate my pain on a scale from 1 to 10.
Flash Fridays: The dress shrugged, a very Italian shrug, and then, almost causally, one sleeve rose as if to slit the seam in the other.
She called my father at work. “I don’t know if we’re downwind. Are we downwind?”
“Do you have a mask?” she asked.
After nearly six months of living in exile, her impulses have become dangerous and unpredictable. She hasn’t seen him in weeks, but she knows he’s there.
Inspired by the Richard Brautigan story, I Was Trying to Describe You.
The land froze nine months of the year. Any winter dead had to wait until spring to be buried.
A few of us stuff in before the subway doors pinch shut. A man slides his hand down the pole, clearing a place for me to hold.
Flash Fridays is taking a summer hiatus, but we’ll be back in September (when our reading period returns). In the meantime, you can catch up on what you’ve missed here.
Just as the sun dipped behind the water tower, Lupe and Maria materialized in the street outside their trailer, fully formed, wearing oversized t-shirts and scuffed up plastic kneepads.