I do not know what verb tense to use when I write about homework help, because it is happening both now and thirty-five years ago.
In Ostia, 1975 by Margaret MacInnis
In Ostia, 1975, you were not yet the explosive teen who became my explosive husband. You were thirteen in tight jeans and a turtleneck sweater.
Forensics of Anxiety by Alfred Fournier
Start anywhere…The day my father and infant daughter first met on his hospital bed birthday, both grinning, happy babies.
The Hook by Kayann Short
I catch the Skip at the last bus stop on the route, the one right next to the homeless shelter. Usually, I see folks riding from this stop for a few weeks before they move on.
Snow Globe by Yael Veitz
I am visiting my grandfather at the nursing home. All night, I must swallow my rage. I swallow my rage at the nurses who are rude to me, at the broken healthcare system. I swallow my rage at him.
The Eelgrass is Dead by Gabrielle Griffis
The beach erodes. An entire diner was consumed in less than 13 hours, swallowed by the maw of the ocean.
Hologram Jesus by Eileen Vorbach Collins
From the front-row pew, reserved for the junior choir, I sat up straight, careful to keep my Sunday dress covering my knees while I kept an eye on Hologram Jesus in the ornate fake gold frame.
How To Fetch Water from a Well When You Only Have an Office Chair to Hand by Jude Higgins
When the men come to my house for the last time, they cut off all the services and take everything apart from my swivel chair.
The Lies that Grow in the Flames by Shelly Jones
They say that I was burned, that a Roman statesman ordered my destruction with his words, screaming them into the Mediterranean winds, salt crusting his beardless face.
Until the Aye-aye by Ara Hone
If I called the authorities once, I called them dozens of times about the Aye-aye.
Grandma by L. Soviero
Mom said Grandma never stood a chance. Because a name’s a shove. And when Mrs. Shapiro introduced Grandma Leary to our junior high class, the new girl was shoved into a room of cruel expressions.
When Christmas Shows Up by Francine Witte
When Christmas shows up, first one without you, we leave your chair empty.
Florida Dreams of Mountains by Elissa Cahn
Under the Florida sun, Ryan moves like a sloth through water. When he and his daughter finally reach the front of the line for Space Mountain, she bolts underneath the divider.
Nkuku by Gaele Sobott
Leah rolls through the valley of ghouls, where she is an anxious slave to the economic order. She has found the courage to take time off work, by pretending to be sick.
Initiation by Stuart Dybek
The doors snap open on Addison, and the kid in dirty hightops and a sleeveless denim jacket that shows off a blue pitchfork tattooed on his bicep jogs forward beneath a backward baseball cap and grabs the purse off a babushka’s lap.
Café Mozart Dreamin’ by Tracey Meloni
Judie bangs on my hotel door. “The dressmaker is here! Hurry! You have Christmas lunch with Noah at Café Mozart at 1PM!”
The Girl In Purple by Bobbie Ann Mason
Their Closet by Pamela Painter
“What are you thinking?” her husband asked her. In their twenty years of marriage he had never asked her that.
Lady Gaga Considers the Shrimp Scampi by Steve Almond
There were fifty thousand little monsters screaming for an encore, Spaniards, Germans, skinny little French boys, Italians making wet sounds with their tongues.