With Nuts

Fiction
  When you hit a jogger with your 4-Runner and he gets up and runs away, turning to say, Hey, I’m OK! as he disappears into the night, it’s logical…

Favorite

Fiction
  Nina made me go to the camp. I only brought it up to make fun of it, but then Nina was like, “No, you have to go.” Nina thinks…

Tyrant Birds

Fiction
  1. The man who wasn’t there to buy furniture appeared my first week on the job. This was odd, because the store I worked at sold furniture, and because…

To Kill a Child

Fiction
  The inferno blew and blew. It rose above the trees and spread outward like villainous arms across the porches of the neighbors’ houses. The cries of an engulfed dog…

Interstate

Fiction
  We play games in the backseat, the children and me. Is it bigger than a breadbox? Smaller than a house? Everyone’s a good sport before lunchtime but, by afternoon,…

Listening to Birds

Fiction
  Because I am not Dave’s wife, I hold my ear to his daughter’s chest every day, when the other children are quiet, sleeping. I think of her as his…

Tokoloshe

Fiction
  I.   There were no paved roads in Mbuzini until President Samora’s plane crashed into our mountain. Now I watch the taxis snake their way up to the monument…

Baby

Fiction
  My mom must’ve told me Leslie was pregnant a couple of months after we broke up, but I didn’t know how pregnant. I tried not to think about it,…

Day Is Done

Fiction
  By the time the hearse pulled up to where the dead corporal was to be buried, Private Crane felt as if the rubber soles of his jump boots had…

Kicking the Stone

Fiction
  The bookstore café was lit by lamps on tables, the big windows at the front beaded with condensation that acted like a blind, dimming the afternoon light. Sylvia had…

Half Hitch

Fiction
  Spring   What passes for weather is cold and slick, the spit and runnel of raindrops. Padilla Bay reflects early sprigs of forsythia, yellow spikes bouncing on stems. A…

Away the Birds

Fiction
  Stevie and I, we live in Fischel’s attic now. It’s small but we don’t need much. There’s room enough for a wobbly nightstand and a chair we’ve piled over…