The Falling Year
I fell from the roof of a building on the first day of the year and didn’t stop falling until the last. It’s not true what they say—that you fall so fast you can’t breathe, or that your heart ...
2024 Short Fiction Award Winner: Kayla Chang
Award Winners, Fiction
We wrap dark, dome-shaped chocolates in foil with cold fingers. We affix a sticker with Mata’s face to the top of each wrapped chocolate. The wall-mounted air-conditioning unit blows icy air on us. The chocolate room ...
A Golden Light by Mary Katherine Carr
Fiction, LAR Online
I took Barb over to Big Sky a few months back. The time had come to either figure it out or put it to rest between us. We did the whole thing—the skiing and snowshoeing. We got drunk and ate well: beef steaks and elk ...
I’m Still Here by Corey Millard
Fiction
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 ...
