She was aggressive off the bat. Perhaps that’s why it bothered me. I wouldn’t have minded sitting in the other seat, but the aggression threw me off. All I said was, “I think that’s my seat?” With the inflection in my voice, that soft question intonation, that vocal gesture indicating, perhaps I’m wrong, but maybe…
Category: Short Stories
The Fox Nose
I swear she came out of nowhere. The field went out far as the eye could see, no way somebody could have come up without us knowing it. There wasn’t nothing there but miles of dead harvested corn stalks. We’d turned our backs for a minute, shuffling through the bed of Devon’s truck for the…
The Visit
I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t know it would be this hard. I kicked the leaves in front of me as I walked the familiar paths that encircled the neighborhood where I used to live. My iced fingers fisted inside wool pockets as a crisp autumn wind passed over me. The air…
The Finishing
This story has been published by History Through Fiction on historythroughfiction.com, where it is exclusively visible in the member-only content area. To read it in full, go to historythroughfiction.com and sign up for a free member-only account. Below is an excerpt (the preface to the story) to give readers an idea of what it is…
Yarico
Preface The story of Inkle and Yarico, as originally recorded in Richard Ligon’s 1673 book, A True and Exact History of Barbados, was taken and embellished by Richard Steele, a writer for The Spectator, and published on March 13th, 1711. This publication fed social conversations and debates on many heated topics including slavery, colonialism, and…
Catfish
Through the din of treading feet and brushing shoulders, Emmeline emerged to face the newly-opened aquarium doors. Shuffling her way through the towering adults, she aimed for the edge of the crowd. Checkered pants, long trench coats, and a colored variety of trilby hats marbled her vision. A subtle sea-side aroma filled the spacious room,…
Starless Nights
“Can you see them, Bee?” “See what, Grandpa?” she asked—the gentleness, beauty, and grace of a wistful butterfly encapsulated in the image of this little, wonder-filled girl. Her dark brown hair was almost in a ponytail; small strands stood up and out like many eager hands at show-and-tell. With big, purple glasses outlining her bright…
Chrysanthemum
“What you see is not the real world,” she told me through a cough or perhaps some excess smoke caught in her lungs. A pile of abused cigarettes heaped by her clean, white chimney steamed slow pillars of grey air. The choke invalidated what she was trying to say, leaving me with a sense of…
Quicksand
“I killed the king of Moab; punctured his balloon stomach with my knife; the rolls of skin-covered lard ate the blade, the hilt and my stiff hand with it. It was warm inside his flesh. Warm and wet; I felt dense objects slip against my knuckles. A moment passed before I realized what was happening,…