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Fiction

Fiction

Why Are These the Things We Worry About?

Teo and Jeff were driving through rainy Pine Bluff, Arkansas, on their way from Wisconsin to Texas, when Jeff got even more feverish. They stopped at a hospital called Reid Memorial, where the examining doctor thought Jeff might have spinal meningitis. The hospital admitted Jeff, then set Teo up in a separate room.

By John Tait April 2024
Fiction

Bridge Kid

As I was dabbing up cookie crumbs, the toddler appeared at the top of the stairs, sucking his thumb and crying. Only then did it occur to me that the boys had not been back up in some time. I patted his damp hair and went to check on his brothers.

By Chelsea Bowlby March 2024
Fiction

The Peaceful Circle—Year in a Wild Marsh

@grimeygrimey: Projected this on the wall so that it was superimposed on my TV, then dosed LSD and played Mario Kart 64 until dawn. Yoshi was in the willow maze! Don’t hit that muskrat, bro! It was sick.

By Leath Tonino March 2024
Fiction

The Bleeding Woman

So, Maryam the elder goes on, they arrest Yeshua and some of his followers and bundle them off to our dear high priest, Caiaphas, who decides it’s better for Yeshua to die than to cause problems with the Romans. The high priest is always sucking Roman cock—can’t help himself—so he turns Yeshua over to the governor, lots of bureaucracy, you know how these things go.

By Kate Osterloh February 2024
Fiction

Longshanks

The elf hits me doing what feels like eighty, blowing through the light at the new intersection by the outlet mall. One of his headlights glances off mine, and he swerves on two wheels before slamming into a construction barricade with the sound of a typewriter dropped off a roof. No seat belt: he is thrown from the car and sails into the desert.

By Samuel Jensen February 2024
Fiction

Falling Action in Hoboken

There is something hard in me, a seedlike malignancy. I can’t say how it got there or when, but I can’t remember the last time I felt pure love or sadness or joy. It’s always a mix of things, some confused and muted in-between.

By Lucy Tan January 2024
Fiction

Basements

I was considered “good,” considered a “good influence.” It amazed me — like the cool feeling of Marshall’s tongue on my labia had amazed me — that I could possess all of these qualities; that I could be both warm and cold, virtuous and defiant; and that someone could love me for all of it.

By Lauren Hohle December 2023
Fiction

Deformation Catalog

I had thought nobody understood dark matter — that it was, fundamentally, an encapsulation of all we didn’t know. But it turned out other people’s lack of understanding took the form of complex theories, mathematical equations, computer programs that turned impenetrable data into different impenetrable data. Other people’s confusion was a castle you could live inside, a whole architecture of the unknown. My confusion was a wall I kept walking into.

By Emet North November 2023
Fiction

Animal Moments

At the hospital two nurses, a doctor, and Dave all stand and watch as I transform into animal. My body expels fluids, feces, and finally a human baby. I grip the bed, howl, grunt, and writhe. Outside the window the trees are sunlit, and the leaves stutter in the breeze. I try to forget that I took a shit in front of Dave.

By Bethany Marcel October 2023
Fiction

Scale

She had read of various roughened skin patches that the internet described as “scales,” but these were not those. These were not, in fact, human.

By Jen Silverman September 2023