Short Stories

The plastic accordion curtain slid back, and he could see into the bathroom. Would it have killed them to install an actual door? Mobile home manufactures in the 1970s needed to get their shit together. Bathrooms need doors, real doors, end of story.

Pat had recently gotten really into staring at ceiling fans, primarily the one in his bedroom, but he wasn’t particular. The one in his bedroom was good. Well not good, but interesting. Sort of.

By the time they crossed the state line, when it was full dark and no stars, Krystal was still complaining about the heat, while Mark was more concerned about Bumpy, who was lying in the backseat. The screaming had started again, and it...

The day our house burnt down, I was out fishing with my Grandad Stephen. He wasn't actually my grandad. Not blood-related anyway, but he'd married my grandma when I was two, so he felt like he was my real grandad.

Lester Grainger had only lived in Green Prairie for less than eighteen months, but he would never live to see a full year and half. There was nothing about him that was striking, nothing that would cause a woman to take notice of his looks, nor would any man find him a challenge...

No one lives in my house now. You can tell because, at night, there are no lights. People should have lights on at night. Not too late at night, people have to sleep, but around dinnertime or just after, when people go to the den to watch Get Smart or something...

So, you’re thinking about working for Mr. Bob Hensham, huh? Think he’s the cat’s pajamas or something? Think his business is going places, but you’re wondering, why am I going around town telling people that he’s the Devil?

Miranda couldn’t recall the last time a circus came through town.

Isabelle’s admissions portfolio is nearly ready. Brooke has the family narrative, the test scores, and the letters of recommendation. These came from Isabelle’s godmother, who runs a marketing firm, and from their pastor at First Presbyterian.

My parents always referred to Ireland as ‘home’. I took that to heart and thought we were home, not understanding this was just a holiday. And being home in Dublin, meant we also had to travel down to my mum’s hometown, Enniscorthy, and visit the relatives there.