

The first time I visited, I was only seven years old. It was beautiful, of course, and not just because, in memory, it is preserved in the amber glow of the hottest, dryest summer of all time. It was beautiful ...
Sand by Ben Tufnell
Fiction

I decide to have an affair the day after my husband starts filming. The idea first sprouts when he mentions audition and romantic lead in the same sentence. It metastasizes when he says he has a call back; festers when ...
The Role by Ashley N Roth
Fiction, LAR Online

“Your parents don’t mind how long we stay?” I asked.
“There’s some kind of a tax thing. Like it’s better if it’s occupied.”
The farmhouse was south of Charleston, halfway between Marlinton and Lewisberg. ...
Quarantine by David Bobrow
Fiction, LAR Online

(CW: Physical violence, self-harm, fatphobia, homophobia)
My mother hates the way I look. I hate the way she looks at me. I hate the way I look too. I am not bad looking. Five-feet-eight, medium build, caramel skin. ...
My Mother is a Cannibal by Priyanuj Mazumdar
Fiction, LAR Online

At dinner time, Ankit leans over the table and spits on Raunak’s food. Ankit’s followers—“gang,” as he calls them—laugh.
“Ignore him,” Shashi, who sits next to Raunak, whispers.
At bedtime, the boys ...
Lesson by Mohit Manohar
Fiction, LAR Online

My mother was an amphetamine addict who left me in a gas station bathroom somewhere east of Maniac, Georgia, when I was four. The last thing I saw of her was her hand, held up, not waving but still. Soon after, I was ...
The Dead Cat by Whitney Collins
Fiction, LAR Online

Boss, we have a problem.
I hear Little Gu’s frantic whisper through my walkie talkie. Little Gu is only three years out of college and already my best worker.
I survey our tables as I walk towards him. ...
Freedom by Catherine Wang
Fiction

Her baby blew a spit bubble and reached for her with its squishy, underinflated arms, and they both giggled. She and her baby had been spending their days at the sticky, fluorescent food court in Glenwood Mall, which ...
NUMB-NUMB by Marc Tweed
Fiction

Hunter has been shutting himself in the home office lately, curling his body over the computer, losing himself in the steady rhythm of his work. His daughter, who seems equally set on self-isolating, won’t ...