Fiction

Acts of mercy. Acts of love. Perry's winter ministry chilled him through. He could not help anyone. And he was getting fat, eating too much, exercising not at all. His sermons were stale. The words hung in the church, rippled up to the organist in the balcony, then died. The church smelled of dust. And…

On a Sunday morning in June, Paul and Judith finished cleaning their apartment, left the key in the mailbox, and drove across town to the house Paul had left on a gray and windy day last March. It was the first house his father had ever bought: a small yellow one with a green door,…

Baptized name, William; but in the main, except for when he was in the service, he can't remember being called anything else but Skeeter, no more than he can place when he started drinking so hard. Sometimes, though, this comes back to him: a summer night when he was maybe three or four, fishing for…

Willie Mae worked at the slaughter house slitting hogs' throats. From eight to six she stood with her knife and blood-spattered apron performing her task. Willie Mae was efficient. One sharp slash at the vital vein, one last shrill squeal from the hog and it was over. Bud picked her up at six in the…

"Laney, ready?" I grabbed my bag and ran after her. Slammed the front door behind me. It was a real crisp evening outside. The wind was sharp. Should have brought a sweater but too late now, she wouldn't wait for me to get one. I got into the car and slammed the door. Before we…

Eventually I want to be able to sit still for an entire evening breathing the air around me in and out like a sturdy houseplant with no need for cigarettes or drinks or television or touching or being touched. That's my goal in life right now, not forgetting that I have a realistic education and…

It was not the kind of service one would expect, considering the quality of the hotel. Around eight o'clock both Eunice and I were awakened by a heavy pounding on the door to our room that sounded once, loud and authoritatively, then decreased into what seemed a series of pulsing echoes. I staggered across the…

The hump on her back was bad when she crawled out of bed at dawn to make breakfast for her grand-niece. It was an ugly hump, but small, almost unnoticeable when she wore large collars sewn with lace and ribbons. Now she didn't care. She pulled her bathrobe over the aching knot of spine. Last…

He was a piece of trash from the first, not to be taken seriously. He arrived in the colony together with his wife, a heavy woman, and two daughters who were, one later learned, twins but not the identical kind. They seemed good enough girls, quiet and formless, pre-adolescent. But the parents were, each in…