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Lindsay Hunter
Continue reading: Lindsay HunterLindsay Hunter returns to her hometown to scare the art into you with fierce fictions.
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Someone knocks on his classroom door
Continue reading: Someone knocks on his classroom doorAn excerpt from the novel, His Wife Leaves Him, by Stephen Dixon
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Now That I Have Found You at Last
Continue reading: Now That I Have Found You at LastHer lips were in that famous downward turn, her eyes lowered and dreamy. She brought a delicate hand to her forehead and pushed a white-blond, perfect curl away from her cheek. Hers was the saddest face I’d ever seen.
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Ester
Continue reading: EsterInside, caribou burgers sizzled on an open grill, but I didn’t eat meat then. Alaska Amber was on tap, which was good because I hadn’t learned I liked whiskey yet. It was someone’s birthday. And late spring. Nearing the days that wouldn’t end, when the difference between yesterday and tomorrow would become a blurry, pink…
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Mourning
Continue reading: MourningI understand about the world of inanimate objects. A sock monkey is a friend of mine. I understand the term age appropriate. Mom tells me that it’s understanding the limits of my mind that keeps me in the basement.