I fetch her the toy bricks Father made from a fallen hornbeam, but she rolls her eyes, hands me a slice of castellated krustenbrot, sends me to town for a bushel of ginger. She bakes model cottages with strudel-work windows, byres with almond-paste oxen, kennels with marzipan puppies. When her schloss cake collapses from its surfeit of turrets, she simply laughs and starts again. Soon she’s building sturdy barns with dumpling mortar, merchants’ houses with pumpernickel shing

Up the worms came, rotini-thick, chubby palindromes of flesh. “Sorry,” I said. “That’s OK,” said the dirt-specked brain at the bottom of the can. “You could use a win.” "I could blame my misery on the family business but truthfully I wanted it." I would’ve licked glass for a tin can, an old boot—the smallest tug of resistance would cure my everything. Instead: limp nothing. It wasn’t the ocean’s fault—on the other side of the dock, my sister Maude reeled in cascades of wr

Reprint. Originally published in Choatic Merge's last issue The guy in the pizza shop is a conspiracy theorist who thinks giving women too many rights makes them violent offenders who’ll knock a man to the floor over a thin-crust pepperoni. Most days, you linger outside and wait for him to get sidetracked by a call, so his kid takes over the counter – he’s a quiet lad, who just sort of mumbles and passes your order along to his dad after he’s hung up. No fuss, then. You can p

I have only been to the seafood restaurant once since the crabs took over. Waiting at the bar for a table was not the same experience: with the bartender scuttling sideways along the bar top, using leverage and small bottles to spindle the drinks. Do I tip a crab as much as I would a student bartender working her way through college? When we achieved main dining and were seated, I recognized the menu cover but wondered what severe changes awaited inside. But crab was still th

It doesn’t take any particular talent to get laid Mr. Sayfer proclaims in his unannounced presentation to the 8th grade where we sit...

I read a poem that takes up half the book. There are boys crying in the cornfields of its pages. A living will tucked into the stanzas of...

I. jennette, i’ve encouraged my mother to delete her will. it’s unnecessary. would there be a squabble, the kind siblings wield when they...

Shreds of what was once a suit hang tattered from his thin shoulders. Looking like he has walked a thousand miles, he leans against the...

My room’s view is of a Home Depot at the base of a giant American flag dying violently in the sunset. Perched against more pillows than...

On Going to the Record Store Manned by an indifferent celestial being named Jesse or Manny in flare jeans and a chambray. All gates to...

Travelogue I have been to Idaho, but it didn’t leave much of an impression. Unlike Utah, with its starched, bunchy mesas and salt flats....

I befriended a spider mother at work. She lives in a metal door frame. Well, not in the frame, but in a part of the frame where the door...

After I’d moved to New York, I spent a lot of time visiting my downstairs neighbors, Stephane and Michele. The young French couple lived...

Saturday, April 21, 6:30 a.m. Bishop’s Lodge Easter weekend in Sangre de Cristos Mountains: “Blood of Christ.” It is the mid-1980s. My...

Frank Garza drove his Chevy Silverado, with his bass boat trailing behind, to the levee on the Amistad International Reservoir that...

Anita Diaz, paralegal at Dan Newsome’s law offices in Alpine, Texas, knew when she heard her cellphone buzz that the news would not be...

He’s a bit of a bombast, that man of mine. His dark hair shines – as if oil is creeping out of his skull. It slickens his joints, jaw,...

Two women lie together against the cold bed, hips and elbows sharp against winter- hardened foam. Hands marked by bedlice, clasping damp...

once i prayed God, destroy everything that attempts to break us apart . i knew the way His people saw me, their eyes pleading for my...

The New York winter chill disappeared when Jean entered the lobby of Maxine Elliott’s Theater, crowded with women. It was Jean’s fourth...