The Lost Body My body is missing. I woke up one morning and I was there, but my body wasn’t. There was no body. My body had disappeared. Have you seen it? My body? It’s missing. My body is missing so I want to ask the strangers on the street if they have seen it. […]
Without my knowledge, my body made the decision that I can only cry once, maybe twice a year. I try to look back and nail down when this order was signed into effect to no avail. One day, it all just stopped. But if I had to guess, I would say I came to notice […]
It was when Dad parked the car in front of Food & More that we started paying attention. “I know about her, Richard. I’ve seen the photos,” Mom said it loudly and threw her seat belt off. Once she was out of the car, she slammed the door. Patty, James, and I looked at each […]
The First Miracle: Parasol Mushrooms Albert’s father would have turned ninety in December, but it was clear now that he had no chances to celebrate his long awaited jubilee. The old man’s congestive pneumonia had started six months before as shortness of breath. Later it had been mistaken for asthma symptoms, and only when his […]
John had never been what you would call a runner. The odd run, or visit to the gym, to blow out the cobwebs when he came to feel particularly sedentary, peppered his life since his late teens. Downloading a running app onto his phone one morning he was surprised to find the login details pre-populated. […]
Each night I lie awake awaiting Fontano’s big monologue, a set piece bed beneath me, eyes closed against the gaze of stage lights high above. I keep still and silent, waiting for the man I love to stumble into our room, cursing as he knocks the floor lamp over. He’ll stand beside the bed and […]
“I’ll see you soon,” Denny says, drawing back, and takes his hand off Rich’s shoulder. They shake hands, and for a second, here in their uniforms, it’s nearly like they’re back at Corregidor, before it all went to hell. They grin at each other, grinning away the fear, and Denny gives him a thumbs-up and […]
The woman in the photographs is your mother, but you do not recognize her. They are a grainy version of her in black and white, a version from before. From a time when she was almost a girl still, her youth the thing which shocks you the most. Because how can it be? How can […]
Andrew was the boy who smelled like roses. All the time, unequivocally. We had four classes together, and I always passed him in the hall to and from each period. No matter where we were, if he was near, the aroma of roses would be present. It never bothered me, but sometimes, I felt like […]
Dust motes danced in pale shafts of late-afternoon sun slanting through the open drapes of the parlor windows. Less affected by gravity than stale air currents imperceptible to Missy, the particles swirled about the big chair reserved for Unc. They appeared as tiny planets revolving around the imperious figure whom she envisioned lounging there. The […]
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