Tag Archives: Fiction

Other People’s Children

by John Blahnik

My wife was coordinating our tapas order with David and Rachel when I spotted the girl. She held her fork in a fist, as if she were spear fishing, and vertically struck her octopus. Her parents watched indulgently. The girl chewed, and her mouth moved as if it were struggling with a gumball. I thought that the whole scene was adorable. Continue reading

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The Pride and the Sorrow

by Douglas Young

Madikwe Game Reserve—June 23, 2010

“Can’t they get in?” I asked the ranger.

We’d just finished breakfast in an overdone dining room with unsurprising pictures of animals every direction you looked. We were gathered outside in the circular drive of the craftsman style Motswiri Lodge. I wore a brimmer hat with my long auburn hair tucked under to protect it from lightening any more than it had rowing crew back home on the Bay. Continue reading

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The Vigil

by Derek Andersen

7:14 p.m.
Already, Joan is running late. But she still hasn’t found the right outfit—the ensemble bold enough to signal a triumphant return from her fifty-four-day leave of absence, but not so bold as to upstage the victims.

She, after all, was on the periphery of The Tragedy that struck Twin Lakes High. Though, perhaps “periphery” was too generous a term. She was on the margins, the outermost fringes. One could argue whether she’d been grazed by its farthest-reaching ripples. Continue reading

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Black Olive

by Julie McClement

“Is it bad if I’m not into racism?” Phoebe asked.

Her brother, Max, was snapping photos of loons as they glided across the lake. This activity, which he referred to as his métier, was one he claimed required monk-like contemplation and he therefore had an annoying tendency to ignore Phoebe while engaging in it. At this, though, he lowered the camera. Continue reading

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The Blue Planet

by Mark Brazaitis

The first trouble was the boy.

Mike Little said he was lonely. He missed his parents and his brother. He missed his bedroom. He missed the café at the corner of the two busy streets where he used to meet his girlfriend after school. This was, of course, before she broke up with him. He was with us because she’d broken up with him, he confessed. He wanted to show her he didn’t need her—he wanted to show her he didn’t need her or the entire earth. Continue reading

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