Category Archives: 100 Stories

100. The Receiver

The football game didn’t go well. Half way through the first quarter a herd of bulls stampeded down the stadium tunnel and scattered on the field. The quarterback had just fallen back. The receiver was thinking, “I’m open.” He saw the ball in the air and as it was about to float slowly into his […]

99. The Sentence

He started drinking at 6 in the morning, was sober by 2 in the afternoon, but for the life of him he couldn’t say who that was showering in the bathroom, whose or what gray cat had just started up the hall, why the room’s width had grown in size, and what was that shape […]

98. Lily’s Trash

Down for review.

97. Barry

Bart, for example, who was never associated with great tragedy but with awkward steadfastness, Bart, who would never be associated with a memorable wedding, watched his father quickly taken by cancer. His father had stayed active for as long as possible and made sure that every morning and every night Barry, a lab mix he’d […]

96. Remember the Time Travelers

“Remember the time travelers?” the velociraptor asked. “I remember,” the other velociraptor said with grinning, dromaeosaurid wistfulness. “They were so crunchy and gooey and helpless.” “Not so helpless.” “Yes, helpless, coming out of their machine, setting up shop so close to the house, raising sounds that would’ve made grandmother water the weeds with her breakfast. […]

95. Trails

The first sign that something had gone wrong was found at the fence surrounding the property. The second came at the barn where they found the remnants of collision. The third thing that told them that things had gone wrong was found at the back door, yet another, which was third but third divided, at […]

94. The Disciplined Conversationalists

Cruz took his girl friend, Maricela, to the top of the mountain. He watched her make coffee. She watched him put wood beside the fireplace. From the windows they watched black bears pass up and down the street, on the other side of which were other cabins like there’s. On the porch, which they felt […]

93. Day Times

He read in the morning and at night. It was everything else in between that was difficult or strange. After the dawn and as dusk was beginning or just at the edges of these times or deeper into the day, such ambiguity, so much strangeness. Marleena sipped her wine. It was dark out, a wall […]

92. The Scissors

When the boxes of office supplies came, they found one full of black and blue scissors. For fairness, the manager decided to divide the scissors. One side of the office was given the blue scissors. The other side of the office was given the black scissors. Molly of the black side said, “But I want […]

91. Ned’s Novel

“I think Ned’s gone a little crazy,” said Evergreen Holmes, smiling at Jimmy Williams. “I haven’t seen him in years,” Jimmy said, visiting the porch on this hot evening. From the porch they could see the lights of the stadium. “Just a little crazy,” Holmes said, drinking lemonade. “Does he still sweat a lot?” Jimmy […]

90. The Skeletons

Father had been long gone from them now. As time passed, Mother grew more and more frightened of brittle things, things that broke, items that had the consistency of sand. She told the boys, It’s bones I fear most. Which intrigued them, as fear intrigued the boys. As it happened, one day, while playing in […]

89. The Job

They’d been called to Italy on a tour and the offer of a job. Currency, selling currency. “We have to spread ourselves,” he said. “We can always come home if it doesn’t work out.” “And living in Italy,” she said, “not much longer than a year, perhaps, could open all kinds of doors later for […]

88. The Voice

The voice he began to hear in his head told him to do sensible things. It told him to brush his teeth, for instance, to wash the dishes. It told him to keep his files in good order, such as by last name or date. Clean the floors. Wash your car. Take out the trash. […]

87. The New Geometry

In the morning, after a night that seemed to go on forever, he went to his car with his bags and found a shape scratched on the hood in the form of a pawn, crude, icy cuts in the paint, maybe made with a key. Still, he had his ticket to Luzern, Switzerland, where his […]

86. The Men who Forgot Math and Poetry

The mathematician said, “I’ve forgotten all my math. It’s the worse thing I can think of to say.” The poet said, “And me, I’ve forgotten all my poems. It’s almost like a nightmare.” The mathematician and the poet went for drinks with money they’d taken from a man who wept in an abandoned room and […]