Featured Fiction: Ink
by Liz Wachtler '11
Tuesday April 8, 2008
Who told you those secrets, anyway? Did my body give them away? Was it the words I left on your retina? Was it the empty writings? I want to write on you, who cares. I will write on you without cease until the very end. I will keep you up at night with it, whether or not you ask that of me. I have all the time in the world and I would like to spend it on your retinas as an inked-in shadow of doubt.
In Absentia, A Letter
by Michelle Koufopoulos '10
Tuesday January 22, 2008
My father left when I was eight,
for a woman with no sons but the money
to keep on trying and a love for red
vermouth and plastic purses.
Featured flash fiction
by Kelsey Ford '11
Tuesday January 22, 2008
There are so many but still I can see his head above the rest and as he moves closer I can tell it’s him, too, because of the shirt he’s wearing and the book he’s clutching tightly in his left hand. It’s November, so the book is probably a Hemingway.
Featured Flash Fiction
by Hadley Franklin
Thursday November 29, 2007
Hadley Franklin writes this issue’s featured flash fiction.
Sky Pirates
by Catie Griffin
Thursday November 29, 2007
In this issue’s feature fiction, Catie Griffin explores the world of sky pirates.
The Attack of the Black Squirrels
by Catie Griffin
Thursday November 29, 2007
In Catie Griffin’s story, Melissa faces off with her arch-nemesis: a black squirrel.
Evolution
by Hadley Franklin
Thursday April 5, 2007
In bio class, I split open a rat’s skull
with three fingers of each hand
digging between the lateral slice of skin,
prying apart the cranial seam.
I wore gloves, but the latex
didn’t numb the bone splintering,
or the hopeful resistance of muscle,
or the damp pearl of brain.
I was man, a meaty toolbox
of love, opposable thumbs,
fist-tight line breaks, and shame.
I was man, I was a brutal
half-nelson, a mean right hook,
an intoxicated fuck in the honey dark
of your parents’ bed.
