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The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids

The Paradise of Bachelors and the Tartarus of Maids - story

Herman Melville

The Paradise of Bachelors It lies not far from Temple-Bar. Going to it, by the usual way, is like stealing from a heated plain into some cool, deep glen, shady among harboring hills. Sick with…

Interview With an Assassin

Interview With an Assassin - story

Daan Heerma van Voss

The low sun, the brass bands, the President’s face blazing with self-confidence. Everyone over thirty can still bring the images to mind. The President, who was on an official visit to Afrasia, a turbulent and…

Soul Anatomy

Soul Anatomy - story

Lou Manfredo

                                                                                     323 Juneberry Way, Deptford, NJ 08096                                                                            (856) 848-0501 Lmanfredo@comcast.net   In certain places there exists a permeating pointlessness to life with an aura of despair so acute that…

The Real Mother’s Song

The Real Mother’s Song - story

Geoff Schmidt

 “Win, win, win, win, win, win, win!!” was the incessant cry of our stepmother Sophie. It was the command that drove our household. She was a slight woman with a turned-up nose and a perky…

Nothing Ruins a Good Story Like an Eyewitness

Nothing Ruins a Good Story Like an Eyewitness - story

Matt Cashion

You got it wrong, son. You exaggerated the wrong things and failed to exaggerate the right things. I know you’re supposed to know your business, but you wrote your story from a long way off…

The Problem with Moving

The Problem with Moving - story

Jessica Hollander

 One move leads to another move, and nowhere feels as good as you want it to feel; your childhood feels wrong, and this place feels wrong, and the next place feels wrong, and so you…

The Flower of One’s Heart

The Flower of One’s Heart - story

Panio Gianopoulos

Yoshi Takamata moved from Kyoto to Connecticut at the age of fifteen, and his three years of American high school, followed by four years at local college and two decades in New York City, had…

Too Huge

Too Huge - story

Kate Hill Cantrill

I made a request of no crying, for I had the grand task of handling the cat. No crying, I said. Do whatever it takes to wait until I’ve gone. He agreed to blame his…

Planch, Whip, Salto

Planch, Whip, Salto - story

Becky Adnot-Haynes

    I. You spotted the trapeze rig in the spring, where it seemed to have sprouted, like a flower, from its otherwise concrete surroundings. It was pitched on a medium-sized plot of grass in…

Headless

Headless - story

Karen Brennan

I was on my way to the bus stop when I saw the headless man. At first I thought it was a trick of the eye: I was wearing big dark glasses, possibly the head…