The therapist carries her heart in a small paper sack. Like a lunch sack, crumpled and brown. Her heart is pulsing inside it.
Being a nanny was not going to be Manju Gupta’s full-time job forever. Her husband, Krishna, had only just graduated from law school and taken the bar exam.
“The height of the Bush administration was an absurd, fascinating, propaganda-filled, scary time in American history. As I was living through it I felt pelled to record the experience,” Stoops says of the time and setting of her novel.
I want to ask her if she remembers that afternoon like I do. If it’s sharp like it is in the creases of my mind, tucked into my brain like the way she taught me to fold a sheet, the point so precise that it doesn’t admit anything else.
Molly Gaudry’s Desire: A Haunting connects the fairy tale realm to the real world and blends the two entities, so that reality bees fantastical and the magical world bees believable.
I enjoyed most pulling my teeth out during school. I was never pretty anyway, Fit for candlelight, my parents would say, so I felt no aesthetic affliction with these small forfeitures.
When Ron saw the headline from his daughter, “Last Great White Dies,” he almost picked up the phone. His daughter made a lot of noise for extinctions.
The opening of Salvatore Pane’s sophomore novel, The Theory of Almost Everything gives a sample of what you can expect from it — an off-the-wall adventure into the multiverse to try and prevent the death of our reality, shot through with self-aware and self-torturing thoughts.
There are no streets named after presidents in Port Storm. There are only seven streets anyway, and one of them is gravel.
She was always hungry, so when Adeline ate her beautiful baby boy, no one was surprised.
“Before he became a clown, he was a bit light-footed,” Mom said. “Your father could slip away in the middle of a funeral and nobody would notice.” These were stories I collected about Dad, who I barely remembered from childhood.