from FIVE TOPOGRAPHIES
by Yasmine AlwanFiction
Rounding the side of the car, a body, the familiar angle of the windshield, the slope of the dashboard, the seat fabric’s divisions, the shiny haunches over the wheels, the saggy loop of the seat belt, the parts and the shape of this body so known it becomes nondescript, not there, nothing, a backdrop, a stage.
The Trials of Woodchuck
by Ted PeltonFiction
Here is another story of Woodchuck.
As we all know Woodchuck was a wanderer.
One day he came to the people in his wanderings and they noticed that his feet were covered with red oozing sores.
from PANGAEA
by Miles StruckerFiction
My parents had the best intentions, but took up the unfortunate habit of burying me once or twice a week.
from FLOATS HORSE-FLOATS OR HORSE-FLOWS
by Leslie ScalapinoFiction
The same as Chrysanthemum having no feelings but she is only feelings. That pass over her seemingly, that is, lying as the heaving rolling hills of orange mail wet petals plastering her.
from MICROSCRIPTS (New Directions)
by Robert Walser and Susan BernofskyFiction
Just as indisputably as there can be both straightforward and elaborate—in other words sumptuous—prose pieces, it would appear to me that possibilities may exist for there being no dearth of both comely and unattractive individuals, that is to say, women.
from Character and Fitness
by Jason Flores-WilliamsFiction
I drink my coffee and stare out the window at the cars passing by on the highway. I remember the old Kerouac line: whither goest thou, America, in thy shiny automobile?
