Today's Best Fiction
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Every morning I wake up to the normal sun shooting through the left window, blinding me as I try to open my eyes. My dog, Donald, barks up a storm. He insists that every morning at exactly 7:04, he...
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Benjamin. Hmm… Jam, Jen, Jeb, Jan, man, Nim, Jim. Oh, and Ben, of course… “What’re you doing?” His friend, Misty, was leaning over his paper. “Anagrams,” Ben...
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Can't Let Go of the Past
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I feel grimy. I press my fingers to my skin. It’s almost slimy from the humidity. I don’t like it. The thick windows of the subway reflect back my shiny face. It has to be the...