According to your mother, you walk on water. Our first weekend trip to the lake with your family, and she says, “Just look at him.”
Hum by Tara Isabel Zambrano
The first time the tall girl brings a dwarf home, she’s unsure. But the purpose is to get away from exotic, immaculate men and ordinary routine of sex and breakups.
Other People’s Mothers by Patricia Q. Bidar
Other people’s mothers’ hair is the shade of a new penny. When their husbands leave, they hire us to paint their bedrooms lavender. We take breaks to lift the lids of shoe boxes stacked in the closet.
Synethesia by Len Kuntz
My brothers hear burgundy, while I hear ochre, yet it’s a wonder we can hear at all.
The Goldfish by James Norcliffe
I did not like Gloria. I sensed her disapproval and responded in kind. She aspired to be the perfect hostess, so I was a particular challenge.
In the Fishbowl by Hun Ohm
In her fingers my sister held a spoon, and in its bowl the spoon held a goldfish, which in turn held its breath as it beheld the dry world in its shiny, unblinking eyes.
Them Naming Me Trespasser by Marissa Hoffmann
Before I was lying on my front in my own piss at the edge of the platform, I was standing on the tracks facing that freight train.
Watch Us Go by Jessica Barksdale
My parents named all our cars: Wilfred, Arthur, Barnie. By the time my father bought the Volkswagen squareback, no one was in the mood to name anything but death.
Game Theory by Merridawn Duckler
Becky is a bully. Her sister, Corey, should have been a boy. These are facts which Corey knows to be as certain as the word facts, fat middle letters fenced in by two taller guard letters.
December by Fred Muratori
Death is rarely timed to match the logical end of something else. My father died in December, but my mother died in January.
My Love is a Worthwhile Horror by Stephen Wack
She wishes to introduce me to her son who might be vicious. “Might be?” I say. “Yes,” she says.
The Accident by Neil Shepard
No exit, here–just a recurring curve of memory. Turn south, drive with me a while down Route 5 to a blind-rise.
Coats by Gary Fincke
The morning of the company president’s Christmas party, my wife Christine read me a story from the newspaper about a woman found hiding in a neighbor’s bedroom closet.
Hermit & Bleeding Faucet by Ana María Shua
With the population now well aware of the physical and mental benefits of asceticism (low cholesterol, bradycardia, a delicate sense of happiness, spiritual fulfillment), everyone wants to become a hermit.
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.
Fun House by Robert Scotellaro
She’d gotten the fun house mirrors at an auction and had them put up in the spare bedroom.
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.