Tag Archives: Fiction

Goosy Gus and the Cash Mob, fiction by William Trent Pancoast

(orig­i­nally appeared in Revolver) Gus had acquired the name “Goosy” because of his shell shock and bat­tle fatigue from WWII and now he was no longer allowed in his daughter-in-law’s donut shop in down­town Cranston even though eat­ing donuts was … Con­tinue read­ing

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And Rapture, fiction by Sheldon Lee Compton

There was this time I thought Gabriel was blow­ing his horn and dive-bombing me into Hell.  Turned out it was a Mack coal truck across the road at Dale Trivette’s Truck­ing pulling onto Route 610. I was in bed and think­ing … Con­tinue read­ing

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Parade, fiction by Henry Hope

I can’t abide this shit. I can’t and I won’t.” Desmond, my mother’s new boyfriend, jabs his oily knob of a fin­ger into my fore­head. His breath is com­ing in rapid lit­tle spurts, a sign, I have learned, that his … Con­tinue read­ing

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Feather, fiction by Elizabeth Glass

Wayne leaned back on the rock where he was kneel­ing next to Mandy when she told him she was preg­nant. He could feel the cool moss seep­ing damp­ness into his jeans. He saw Mandy look­ing and act­ing older after hav­ing … Con­tinue read­ing

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Texas Never Whispers, by C.L. Bledsoe

The closer it got to Joey’s dad’s birth­day, the more agi­tated he became, and with noth­ing worth­while to do when he wasn’t at work – which was less and less often since Jerry had been cut­ting his hours – he … Con­tinue read­ing

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Toluene, by Max Sheridan

This guy I knew, he thought he could make his shit high stick­ing toluene up his ass. Some peo­ple know more than one guy like that. I fig­ure you talk to enough of them you’ll hear just about any­thing twice. You … Con­tinue read­ing

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The Last Summer, by Kelly Ford

My friends would head to the pool that day. They’d show off their new boobs in their new biki­nis. Point out which boys they wanted to date. Make plans with­out me for our upcom­ing sopho­more year. Angela paused and spun her … Con­tinue read­ing

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Vietnam. Fucking Vietnam, fiction by William Trent Pancoast

The dark­ness started on my lunch break at the fender fac­tory. I went out by myself that day, late in Feb­ru­ary with snow on the ground, yet with full sun­shine, the sort of day that promises some­thing but you know … Con­tinue read­ing

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A Hard Thing, But True, fiction by Amanda Bales

Bras cov­ered the back of the car. They draped over the seats and wrapped over the seat belts and hung from the door han­dles and car­peted the floor, as if a band of horny teenagers had taken the Buick for … Con­tinue read­ing

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Wild and Wonderful, fiction by Tom Bennitt

You need good hands to run a machine like the con­tin­u­ous miner. You got to know when to hold back and when to go deep. It’s the best-paying job in the mine but also the hard­est, and I’m out of … Con­tinue read­ing

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