the short story project


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Tamagotchi - story

Adam Marek

My son’s Tamagotchi had AIDS. The virtual pet was rendered on the little LCD screen with no more than 30 pixels, but the sickness was obvious. It had that AIDS look, you know? It was…

Time and Again

Time and Again - story

Breece D’J Pancake

Mr. Weeks called me out again tonight, and I look back down the hall of my house. I left the kitchen light burning. This is an empty old house since the old lady died. When…

The Last Thing We Need

The Last Thing We Need - story

Claire Vaye Watkins

July 28 Duane Moser 1077 Pincay Drive Henderson, Nevada 89015 Dear Mr Moser On the afternoon of June 25 while on my last outing to Rhyolite, I was driving down Cane Springs Road some ten…

Gorillas in the Congo

Gorillas in the Congo - story

Alejandra Costamagna

Romina had been staring at him, that was true. She had been staring at him from the other checkout line at the supermarket. And, finally, she’d said to him, “Nice to see you.” Then she…

What’s Wrong, Honey?

What’s Wrong, Honey? - story

Matías Candeira

The incident with my wife occurred during an excursion into the jungle. It was an overwhelmingly green afternoon, the kind of thing you boast about to your guests. (“The sun that evening was incredible, wasn’t…

Pending Vegan

Pending Vegan - story

Jonathan Lethem

Paul Espeseth, who was no longer taking the antidepressant Celexa, braced himself for a cataclysm at SeaWorld. He wondered only what form cataclysm would take. Espeseth had tried to veto this trip, making his case…

The Islands

The Islands - story

Marina Perezagua

  To Narciso, protector of shipwrecks   The kids insisted on buying an inflatable float on our way to the beach. They chose the biggest one, a yellow circle with some rocks and a crab…

An Imperfect Day

An Imperfect Day - story

Giovanna Rivero

Seated on a tree trunk, Marcelino draws circles in the sand with his index finger because it would be difficult to draw with his thumb.  In fact, his index finger and thumb are the only…

My Parents and My Children

My Parents and My Children - story

Samanta Schweblin

“Where are your parents’ clothes?” Marga asks. She crosses her arms and waits for me to answer. She knows that I don’t know and that I need her to ask another question. On the other…

Dead Dog at Midnight

Dead Dog at Midnight - story

Kostas Katsoularis

It was one of those nights when our Athens was stewing in its own juice, a mixture of exhaust fumes, burnt plastic, teargas, despair. We struggled to seal off all the cracks; the air slipped…