A super-short work of fiction by Mark Sherman that the Woodstock Times called “a great, psychodrama-short story (involving psychoanalysis, no less).”
“Because of Channa’s guardianship, Siddhartha would become the ruler that he was ever destined to become.” By Phong Nguyen
“I clamped my arms to my sides in an attempt to hide the sweat stains. ‘She’s very bright,’ Uncle Robert added, as if describing a puppy or a small child. He leaned in close like he was sharing a secret.” By Kirstin Chen
“Back in the kitchen I found Robert licking one side of each pepperoni before he put it on the pizza.” By Thomas Thulman
“Daria laughs up at Jeff, the man she will marry, even though she’s not pregnant.” By Heidi Bell
“He couldn’t risk Walter, Peggy’s father, catching him doing things—you know, sexual things—with his daughter.” By Jamie Iredell
“At the time, Lucy Hayek saw Zack as a better alternative to experimenting with a bunch of anti-depressants.” By C.E. Hyun
“My girlfriend, the incredibly hot born-again Christian to whom I lost my virginity, asked me if you were an actual fag, or if you just acted like one.” By Michael Rowe
“When my mom calls to tell me that my father has been hospitalized, it doesn’t take me long to decide to use the information to hit on a girl.” Weekend Fiction by Patrick Hueller
Should an author write characters of a different race than his own? Is that exploitation? Appropriation? Race denial? Or is it the author’s right? A conversation with Bill Cheng and Christine Lee Zilka on writing outside one’s race.
“This was two months before he left his family. Arthur can’t tell you exactly what he did on that birthday, only that it left a taste of fatty pizza and cheap plastic in his mouth, that it involved a giant singing rodent, and that it was important to him.” Weekend Fiction By Delaney Nolan
“Political discord in this land had always been marked by blood and pain. The stories were unending, shocking the first time, sad but predictable after that.” By Masha Hamilton
“As we lay on his mattress, the cool summer air from his window slipping across our naked skin, he told me about the first girl he’d ever loved.” By Karissa Chen
“She looks into my living room as if to glimpse someone behind me. No one should be there.” By Jimin Han
“When she disappeared Papi didn’t eat for weeks.” An excerpt from LOTERIA, by Mario Alberto Zambrano.
“And in this room: The love letters we wrote to each other in the months of our courtship, aflame,” by Matt Bell