Life? or Theatre?
There was something glamorous about her movement under the enormous lights—not exposure but amplification. Even on so unforgiving a stage, she did not seem lost, but rather the impersonal expanse seemed relieved to have been colonized, tamed, at last. I was stupefied into not even feeling my overlapping agonies. Read Story
“Would you die for your art?” is a question we’ve heard before. But how far would you go to hold on to it? Would you die? Would you marry a big fat man? Read Story
The Gastronomical We
Two people in a shared apartment who both eat dinner on TV trays. Shouldn’t Patience Purcell and Stanley Livingston be romantically together despite her tyrant father and tyrant cooking empire boss and his aversion to alcohol and older women? Read Story
Bill was too disgusted to pull into his own driveway. Instead he parked on the street out front. Cut the ignition and sat there with both hands still on the wheel. “I managed a candy plant twenty years for this?” Read Story
Shock engulfed me. I couldn’t help gaping at her face in the same way that Alma Church gaped at faces. Beneath her left eye, the skin that had been purple was now a yellowish green, and I stared at those colors like they were the northern lights. That distressed eye was a portal into something profound that I wasn’t ready for and unwilling to accept. I wanted to push it back with all my might. Read Story