literary fiction
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The phone finally rang and I rushed to it. There were sounds of pots and pans banging against each other in the kitchen and the boisterous energy of my family filled the house, but I could still hear my own heart thumping loud, as if it was going to jump out of my chest. The…
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He hated wearing the tux, which hugged him in all the wrong places. He hated her being the star of the evening. He hated her picture on Page Six of The Post, even though his press agent had planted it. He hated the stupid show and certainly wasn’t thrilled watching other men look at what…
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The policeman turns to look at him well. “My friend, we are looking for your kidney and not your money. You didn’t give the man your money. What you gave him is your kidney, and that’s what we need to find. It’s when we find it we can begin to talk about your money. Pray…
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With evening fast approaching, I combed everywhere for signs of a cave. Or just the sight of a man. What I’d do with him would be marvellous. God knows. So that was it. I continued until I came to a brook. And there sat a man. His hairs and eyebrows were gray, even though he…
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I leaned in and pressed my lips against his own. They were soft. He kissed back. I know he did. I swear, he kissed me back. And for a few seconds there was only Maverick and Reston—hiding in a bush during recess and locking lips in a safe space.
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After the positive pregnancy test, I became something ancient—maternal with my nesting habits and my constant hunger. I watched the body I occupied grow and change, a ship of Theseus rended from flesh. Joy and anticipation replaced desire and pride. The horrible things pregnancy wrought on my body—hyperemesis, preeclampsia—were signs of something greater, a life…
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I caught slivers of the words the doctor whispered to Whalebone. Miscarried. Unfortunate, but perhaps for the best given my condition. I thought about that for a long time. What was my condition? Was it of the mind or of the body? I couldn’t say.
