Issue 35, Final Fringe

Short Short

Assembly Instructions

by Kim Liao, Kim Liao 06.24.2013

They say the word “Ikea” as if could be chocolate, or the internet, or sliced bread, or crack cocaine. more »

The Self-Help Writer

by Caren Beilin, Caren Beilin 05.06.2013

There are too many women on this syllabus. Don’t review us. There is too much inside of us. more »

Feeds

by Nalini Abhiraman, Nalini Abhiraman 12.31.2012

New things had happened all the time, and were to have been learned. We read well and closely, were always reading, really, growing well-versed in versions of ourselves. more »

Apology for Brother

by Jaclyn Watterson, Jaclyn Watterson 07.09.2012

By the time I touched it, I knew it was a penis and not a cashew. more »

Spoon

by Emily Sandberg, Emily Sandberg 11.14.2011

Tim and I were in bed together when he saw the spoon. I’d accidentally left the closet open, I noticed, at the same moment he said, “What’s that?” and I knew exactly what he was referring to more »

Alone in a Small, Small World

by Dean Marshall Tuck, Dean Marshall Tuck 07.11.2011

Why do we do it? Why do we find ourselves perpetually crossing county and state lines, early in the a.m., hungry, dazed, half-drunk, half-asleep, and whole-alone? more »

The Loneliness Diet

by Paul Griner, Paul Griner 02.21.2011

At night he would lie with his head in her lap, tonguing the newly formed skin, learning its salty smoothness. He liked that these new, shiny patches had yet to suffer the abuse of daily living. more »

Illustrated Girl

by Ethel Rohan, Ethel Rohan 10.18.2010

I stretched out on the carpeted floor and allowed my co-workers to move around me, stroke me, to flip me over, and over again. more »

illuminated destruction

by Amy Dupcak, Amy Dupcak 08.23.2010

…this couch is not the kind you’d want to fall asleep on. it looks like a giant band-aid, curing something self-inflincted. max and i know, without knowing, each other.  he is a bruise; a few shades darker than me and geometrically… more »

Terry & Tawny & Lucinda

by J. A. Tyler, J. A. Tyler 07.12.2010

Tawny is a girl and a girl is a flower. A girl is a rhythm. A girl is a train riding tracks. more »

The Last Moonshiner

by Lydia Ship, Lydia Ship 03.08.2010

All the voices coming from the holes in the ground were talking to themselves, sometimes shushing themselves, too. They were hiding from the Bully, the one that got Popcorn. more »

Swear

by Justine Tal Goldberg, Justine Tal Goldberg 01.11.2010

I’m in the car with my childhood sweetheart. We’re lost on hometown streets, houses lined up like headstones. more »

Transponder

by Kate Wyer, Kate Wyer 09.28.2009

She makes a dismissive flick with her hand toward the tunnel. I go. I want to communicate with chemicals, understand attraction and terror as smells. There is no algorithm here, no easy pattern of pheromones to follow. more »

Snake

by J. Bowers, J. Bowers 08.17.2009

We exfoliated frantically in a vain attempt to eliminate every shred of skin we'd worn before you left. This was Snake's idea. He left hollow, papery shells of himself draped down the stairs like forgotten streamers. I exhausted three loofahs. more »

Things I Never Thought I’d Say

by Kat Gonso, Kat Gonso 07.19.2009

I earned an A in physics. Did the tiger attack you or did you attack the tiger? It wasn’t me, Officer. He wore cutoffs on the first date. I married him anyway. more »

Our Family

by Joseph Scapellato, Joseph Scapellato 03.01.2009

My mother’s made of plastic. All her parts. In her, one stores solids, fluids, leftovers, even garbage. more »

Flash Flood

by Megann Sept, Megann Sept 12.01.2008

That night around the fire, after she’d coughed up more water than he thought could fit in a person’s lungs, Manuelo sat and listened to her talk about a white tunnel of light and her life flashing before her eyes—clichés, yes, she said, but true. more »

Fever

by Joel Wright, Joel Wright 09.01.2008

The room is small in its warmth. I feel swollen in the dim glow of a low fire and a sputtering candle. I am alone, save for my son. more »

Out by Munson Creek

by Chuck Taylor, Chuck Taylor 09.01.2008

"Give me my blowgun," Harry said. Kyle handed him the blowgun from the floor on his side. It was dark and cool and we were on a county road sixty miles east of Dallas. The sky was autumn clear; a quarter moon hung low on the horizon. more »

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