Fiction

Living with the Dead in Placentia, CA

Oftentimes, the dead leave town. Olga thinks the dead leave because they find there is no place for them.

Jul 31, 2020
Tonight, We Live Like Kings

Dylan doesn't do gender, but they do drag.

Jul 24, 2020
What Is It About a Dyke at Summer Camp?

When a girl Miss-Mary-Macks with you, it’s like you share a birthday for a full breathless sixty seconds.

Jul 17, 2020
Erie

The plan was to seal themselves inside for as long as they needed to—until the world stopped burning, until it was safe.

The Astronomers

One day, Brian would dissolve into the atmosphere and not come back. One day, this room, our home, our love, would no longer be able to contain him.

Jun 26, 2020
The Year It Poured

Houses were flooded, roofs were carried away in the wind...And a month before that, the condoms in my father’s wardrobe mysteriously disappeared.

Jun 12, 2020
Your Book Reading

“Hello, [a mispronounced version of your name], pleased to meet you.”

Jun 05, 2020
Low-Flying Children

The Green Man dreams that one day he will throw away the flag and depart for home in a bug-free rocket ship. But not before the children grow up, walk instead of fly.

May 29, 2020
Hotel La Plantación

They like flirting with local women. When they’re satisfied with the season, they catch a plane and go back to gringolandia.

There Is No Human Resources Department at the Candy Cooperative

The bubbly letters were both a direction and a justification for the lines of people who shelled out $37.50 for a forty-five-minute “experience” at “the sweetest place on earth.”

May 15, 2020
Solitude Is a Human Presumption

Why can’t we imagine, just for the sake of argument, that a joyful spirit leaves some of themselves behind—an echo of joy in a place they once loved?

May 08, 2020
So What’s Your Name, Sandra?

Her son’s name was Bison and, wouldn’t you know, she’d enjoyed calling him “Son” for short.

Class, What Do We Know About the President?

What is dramatic about wanting to protect ten kids from the bullshit of the world? Just ten. That’s all I want.

Apr 24, 2020
Lepidoptera

Her family had no wings, only legs that could traverse blocks at street level, where no one was allowed since the Sickness.

Apr 17, 2020
The Wedding After the Bomb

Somewhere far away, someone made a call, someone in power said yes to violence, and our friends would never get to see our friends say yes to love.

Shlomo and Fanya

The girl, a matchmaker, asked to see Shlomo’s hand. Reaching from her coat pocket, she pressed a tarot card-sized photo into his palm.

Apr 03, 2020
Unbecoming Behavior at the St. Agnes Fair

He always smelled like fabric softener exhaust from the laundromat down our block: like blue bottles of Downy and Saturday nights, when Mami would blow dry my hair straight with dollops of Dippity-Doo.

AREA CANNIBALESS

Some just want a lick of fame, prostrate at my feet with their sweaty headshots as if I am the one to save them, as if they are worth saving.

Forever Atlas with a Balloon

What does a melon dream about as it bathes in tendrils of rainwater, wishing to be invisible?

Mar 13, 2020
The Smell of All Mothers

It was That Smell, that-so-familiar-one that hurt me not to remember where I’d smelled it before.

Mar 06, 2020