Sean Lovelace Above western France, James Franco tumbled (more sucked out actually) from a C-82 cargo plane and spinning, spinning, through strands of torn cotton, whirls of luggage-shaped...
Miranda Schmidt When the two people come into the woods, they bring their noise with them. They crackle old leaves in new hiking boots, snap pictures and laugh as they point at birds and...
Kim Chinquee At the auction I wear a bright pink tank top and walk around in my bare feet. I touch my face. I’m so hot that my teeth hurt. People stand around a flatbed, where the...
Siamak Vossoughi There was a lie running straight down the middle of their town. As long and straight as Forest Avenue. The boy had been aware of the lie for some time now, but as soon as he...
Zach Powers He was a little gray moon. Small enough to be held in the palm of one’s hand. But a moon is too heavy for that. He would center his orbit on the object of his attention. He...
Leslie Pietrzyk You really hammer down the nail, my boyfriend says the second he swipes shut this phone call. Thank you? Not a compliment, he says. I arrange a hurt, pouty look on my face, a...
“My brother is dying,” my mother tells me over the phone, her voice spilling down the line, a thin stream of water over the lip of a dam. My mother says the word dying like it’s a question. As...
Jacqueline Doyle Manka curled up on her white linen couch with a glass of Pinot Noir and opened the new New Yorker to the fiction page. On the left there was an illustration of a snowy...
I was several blocks away, kicking a soccer ball against a cinder block wall. In the hospital that evening I stood alone in the fluorescent hall. I didn't believe a bit of it. Was Gawk in the room...
Christian A. Winn Yesterday the boy I pretend is David phoned. “Hi, Mom,” he said. “Happy birthday.” It was not my birthday, and I told him so, as I always do. “I miss you...
