Down the hall of screams, men in plastic suits go by with another body in a wheelbarrow. The fifth one today—a woman in her mid-sixties.
My Grandmother in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, 1943 When They Were Building an Atomic Bomb by Emily Kiernan
Lucy arrived into a city of clattering. Metal on metal on packed dirt on rail ties on muddy standing water on boardwalks on cement on flesh on leather on canvas on metal on metal on earth.
Tiers of Joy by Cyn Nooney
My mom sent me to Carmen’s house with banana bread because her brother Theo died. He had just turned seventeen.
Pursed by Amina Gautier
Her change purse was always hungry, but today she had nothing to feed it. I’m hungry, it said, as if she couldn’t tell.
Conversation in Hotel Lounge by Lydia Davis
Two women sit together on the sofa in the hotel lounge, bent over and deep in conversation. I am walking through, on my way to my room.
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!”
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.
Little Red Riding Hood by Katerina Kishchynska
Grandma gets her episodes at least once a month. She’ll grow out her jaws and if it happens on a rainy day, claws will tear out of her fingers.
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.