Tag: family

All Stories, General Fiction

Nana Won’t Rise Up from the Dead by Margo Griffin

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I peel off the paint bottle’s seal, and a strong chemical smell wafts off the top. The scent reminds me of the hospital’s ICU corridors and the ache that filled my chest when my mother and I entered Room 520A to see Nana a few days before. I swirl around different colored paints and recreate the fiery orange sunset and the same brilliant blue sky from last year when Nana and I walked along the shore during our annual beach trip after Easter Sunday Mass. My little brother plunges without thought into his palette and haphazardly washes his brush against his egg’s shell. His designs turn out formless, and his colors mix into drab shades of brown and gray. He eyes my egg and then looks down at his, and his cheeks flush. His eyes flash in warning as his idea is hatched in seconds. Still, I don’t move fast enough and watch in horror as he smashes the Easter Egg I painted for Nana to the floor, sending pieces of memory flying through the air; these things are fragile. 

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All Stories, General Fiction

My Mom Died Yesterday by Zora Foote

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My mom died yesterday. No bull, well maybe a tiny bull, by the time you read this it may have been last week, last month, or last year, but I’m pretty sure she will still be dead. I am not astonished. I am not mollified. I am not even a tad bit sad. By contrast, my German Shepherd died four months ago, and I had to be medicated. Our relationship was not a good one, the one with my mom, not the dog. I loved my dog.

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All Stories, General Fiction, Horror

Hooked by Jack Kamm

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“We create monsters and then we can’t control them.” –Joel Coen

Looking back through the window of memory with all its scratches, I’m driven to tell my story not to frighten but to enlighten because in the end—that cocky, inescapable end—-it’s truth, not reality, that transforms us. According to Dr. Hornsby, the men shuffling cards at my kitchen table that December at 3 in the morning were part of what he called my ongoing childhood fantasy— except that, unlike all the other fantasies, this one was the first that could be fatal. 

“It’s called paracosm, Peter,” he informed me.  “None of it is real.”

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Trip by Dillon Cranston

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I walk in; he’s watching Andrei Rublev walk through a shoddy doorway into the rain and disrobe.

“That’s an oldie,” I say. “Are you finding it any good?”

“Hmm,” My son hems. “It’s a lotta doorways. And he’s not very nuanced.” Done thinking, his face flashes. “Don’t spoil anything if you’ve seen it.” Still hung up on the Citizen Kane snafu…

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All Stories, General Fiction

The Arrival by Anna Elin Kristiansen

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Fear is gnawing at my insides when I snap my compact shut. Getting caught up in my looks is of no use now. I’m tired – beyond tired, actually, and no amount of powder or mascara will change that. When I meet him, I know I’ll feel naked and transparent. He’ll see right through my façade because I’m half him. My tricks come from him, so he’s bound to know them already.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Blacksticks Blue by Robert Cutillo

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The terraced house had a brown door, an unkempt garden, and a crooked gate. Weeds sprouted from the wonky paved path, and a torn plastic bag clung to a bare bush.

Michael stood before the gate, one hand in his jacket pocket, the other holding a plastic bag of his own, his eyes fixed on the front door.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Treehouse by Hanwen Zhang

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The front door is already locked but I find Dan hanging around the tree in the backyard, legs curled up around the topmost branch as if he’s the Cheshire cat or something.  No stripes, but the swagger to pass as one, all smug and smiling.  Eminently punchable.  He gestures at me to come up, casually, the way someone might give orders to a dog.  The last time I saw him he owned a slobbery mastiff he would feed Grade A beef to.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Dry by Christopher W. Hall

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I’m parked on her street in front of the house. Hesitating. It’s just my third day back. What will Francesca do? I might have waited even longer if it weren’t for the thought of her sister, Lisa, who always greeted me with a hug and a smile.

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All Stories, General Fiction

Dirty Summer by Jennifer Maloney

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She comes every June to set us free. Zooms into our neat little neighborhood, somehow boiling a cloud of dust from Grandma’s swept asphalt, brakes squealing like a stunt driver. Grandma’s jaw works but she forces the corners of her mouth up, tries to smile a welcome. The car fishtails in, parks crooked as a middle finger. A brown foot, naked, toenails the color of a freshly skinned knee, heels open the driver’s door and a cardboard cup in a long-fingered hand appears. Immediately upends. A brown waterfall of liquid and half-melted ice splatters the driveway, and as it rivers down to the street I hear it: that wonderful voice. Yuck, flat, Aunt Glory announces, and summer begins.

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