STORY

"The universe is made of stories, not atoms." -Muriel Rukeyser

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FINALLY! . . . . #litmags #publishing #shortfiction #fiction #shortstories #shortstory (at Columbus, Ohio) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoKpdpFLgrK/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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“He was so earnest and everything he said came out in such a rush that it took me a minute to really hear him and put it together, that he thought he was speaking to a very specific person from his past right now, someone he had actually known. And it was this other person he was so fixed on that he couldn’t remember anyone else in the room with them that first night.” - Youn Rourke, from her story “Prank Calls” in our spring 2022 issue https://www.instagram.com/p/CdtPhLGLp94/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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“I park the truck in the drive at home, and my son Arlo greets me after a short sprint from the front door, blonde curls bouncing just like his mother’s. He pounds with open palms on the driver’s side door. He squeals a request to take him to work after we eat lunch. Usually, I’d say yea, but given the protestors and now the broken window, I have to decline.” - Matthew Meduri, from his new story “Holy Smokes Goes Up in Flames” in our current issue. https://www.instagram.com/p/CdqUQATuWTQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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“We were terrified despite the counselor’s soothing voice. Our attention strayed from her words. Our minds retreated to the recent past. We saw ourselves wiping Maeve’s mascara-stained tears off our cheeks while returning to the holiday party, eating like animals at the baby shower, leaving the heavy crib in its box when we left Maeve’s place.” - Tamara Dean from her new story “Our Prospects” in our spring 2022 issue https://www.instagram.com/p/CdgHv4xOIdd/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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“When I cleared the tall grasses and came in sight of the patio, I heard Maureen and Daniel discussing me: where I was, how either one could let me wander off. Maureen saw me over the patio wall, waved her dish towel in my direction. I let myself in through the patio gate, stepping under the arbor laden with ivy.” ~ Becca Orchard from her new story “Michigan” in our spring 2022 issue. https://www.instagram.com/p/CdVjlhuuyXg/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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“She didn’t talk about it, but Mrs. Parathy knew she wanted Dev to go to college in America, fulfill her aborted dreams. All her hopes were invested in the studious, awkward bit; for a recent birthday, he’d given Mrs. Parathy a model of the human stomach to show how small it was.” ~ Anu Kandikuppa from her new story “Grandmother” in our current issue https://www.instagram.com/p/CdOLckKrugR/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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“If you’d asked me yesterday about that dinner, I would have barely remembered that I called him afterwards because he had failed to bring back the staple gun I had loaned him to cover a chair seat. I left a message but he never called back. Now, at this crossroads, with my heart in the wrong place, I felt imperiled by detail.” ~ Barbara Sutton from her new story “Fondly” in our spring 2022 issue https://www.instagram.com/p/CdL91R4OuF4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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“At the moment it all began to seem ridiculous, the staging of food in this precious way, when it would all be chewed and digested in a matter of minutes. Maybe this was ‘it’ - the thing he was about to lose: his sense of pride in his work.” ~ Susie Nadler from her new story “Dollface” in our spring 2022 issue https://www.instagram.com/p/CdGaHu2uipd/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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“The guard thinks this is because he has accepted his life, that being inside for so long has become something unpleasant that he’s used to, like an ill-fitting shoe. The guard and the old head chat during recreation, against the wall where there is a little bit of shade. He pulls something out of his pants pocket and hands it to the guard. A piece of white soap, intricately carved into a swan.” ~ Vida James from her new story “You Belong in Gray” appearing in our spring 2022 issue. https://www.instagram.com/p/CdD6EFrLFOF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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“I shut my computer and put on a T-shirt and got into bed with my husband. He didn’t move when I got in next to him. His face was vulnerable, snoring, drunk. I hated him. I wanted to smash his soft face in. I huddled there, shivering for a long time. I tried to make myself feel guilty. I couldn’t. I still can’t.” ~ Mack Marsden, from her new story “Bad Winter Emulsion” featured in our new issue. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc72a4TLWnP/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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“Afterward, she went to the bathroom. She was relieved to see that the bleeding had slowed to a soft pink color. She felt more like herself, like she could see her body being hers again someday. Ali poured a glass of wine, telling herself later she would pump and dump, that it would be fine for the baby to drink some formula when she woke up.” ~ Caroline Kim, from her new story “Motherhood” in our spring 2022 issue. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc24CxIuHJZ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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"I sat on the floor of his room, drinking and talking, not holding his gaze long enough for either of us to figure out how to proceed. I prattled nervously and brayed with laughter, when, had I stilled, I might have felt the great quieting of desire come over me. I was stopped not by loyalty to my husband, for our marriage was almost over. I was stopped by picturing my body from the outside breaking through the air like panes of glass rather than from the inside where the darkness had tamped and softened it." ~ Corinna Vallianatos, from her new story "Something in Common" from our new issue. https://www.instagram.com/p/CZw4IvOFy-8/?utm_medium=tumblr

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"He’s focused on the radio—this red line on the dial. The stations are all static, like they’re hardly even real. And out her window, there’s a church: this flickered-light, nothing. Alone and kind of beautiful and with concrete like teeth. Someone’s boarded up the windows and spray-painted shapes: an arrow pointing down and this alien head." ~ Blaine Prescott, from his new story "Terre Haute" in our current issue https://www.instagram.com/p/CZuD2mVr5II/?utm_medium=tumblr

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"She thinks of her grandmother, who loved her in the most uncomplicated way, who used to leave her voice messages just saying “You’re so wonderful” for no reason at all. She thinks about the Comp Lit course she took in college and the time she got a C+ on a paper and then the professor said that if anyone got below a B on the assignment then maybe they should reconsider whether this school was actually a good fit for them. None of these things preclude her from thinking about Noah, too, who fulfills a particular need in her life right now, and whom she feels slightly repulsed by, but nonetheless wants desperately to want her." ~ Kate Axelrod, from her new story "Sex on Wednesdays" in our current issue! https://www.instagram.com/p/CZr1A_ol41B/?utm_medium=tumblr

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"Once, toward the end of my career as a crab, still reeling from my breakup and unable to sleep, I was exhausted from an hour of giving kids high-fives. It was a sweltering day. They did not see that underneath my mask, like Jasmine, I could not stop weeping." ~ Ernie Wang, from his flash fiction "A Mask of Our Own" one of two of his pieces in our current issue #story #flashfiction #shortstory #fiction #litmags https://www.instagram.com/p/CZhLakkLE9g/?utm_medium=tumblr

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"On the second floor, I was relieved, there were door handles. The woman had vanished, and I knocked on the first door I reached. I heard voices. No one was in the room, only a round bed—now there was a question for the bedding clerk. Each door revealed another bedroom. I lost count at seven or eight, more bedrooms than was reasonable in any understanding of the world, and then one door released a wash of murmured tones. I pushed the door wider, wanting a glimpse of this private party but not wanting to be seen" ~ Ellen Rhudy, from her new story "Best of Times" in our current issue #story #shortstory #fiction #shortfiction #storymagazine https://www.instagram.com/p/CZZWjl4LgMg/?utm_medium=tumblr

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"The boys reach the end of the ramp and rinse the sand off their feet before continuing barefoot—sandals in hand—on the wooden bridge that leads to the back entrance of their building. They trek past the over-chlorinated outdoor pool where a host of under-supervised children splash in the water and watch a film on the projector. Who would spend money to stay at such a resort only to swim in a pool three hundred yards from the ocean, Andy wants to know." ~ Siew David Hii, from his new story "Beach Vacation" in our latest issue #story #fiction #shortstory #storymagazine https://www.instagram.com/p/CZR6YKSlINx/?utm_medium=tumblr