The black pinstripe suit has been carefully placed across the foot of his bed. The dry cleaning tag pinned to the inside collar bears a date from the previous decade?the same date, Eugene remembers, that he had returned to the jeweller’s with Helen’s wedding band and the accompanying receipt of sale. The shirt and jacket… Read more »
I raced with my brothers into the darkness. Our curfew had long since passed, but Cameron kept leading us further and further from home. He took long, powerful strides across the pavement while Matthew and I breathlessly trailed him, lagging far behind. Matthew, 11, was tripping on his own shoelaces and cursing under his breath…. Read more »
The doctor reads the sperm count aloud, and Ben comes to a sudden, sickening realization. Even with his own rudimentary understanding of science and mathematics, he is almost certain that the number disclosed in the file should consist of many more millions. The doctor, a slim, grey man, stifles a yawn and taps a rhythm… Read more »
The doctor opens his file and reads the sperm count aloud with resounding indifference. Across the room, the stunned non-father staggers into a void; the first scattered thoughts he is able to gather involve his rather rudimentary understanding of science and mathematics. He does not hold a medical degree, but he is quite certain that… Read more »
This article originally appeared August 22, 2008, in issue 1633. The time on the computer screen reads 11:18 p.m., and the loneliness sets in. (In truth, the accuracy of this time is questionable as my computer is often many hours ahead, and the date setting is often many years behind; 1982, to be exact.) Regardless… Read more »
The sliding doors of the westbound train close tight, and three lovers settle themselves uncomfortably on cold, vinyl seats. From the overhead speakers, a tinny voice garbles what may or may not be the next station stop. Then, with a jolt, the train moves forward, gathers speed, and draws them into the darkness. The trio… Read more »
From the boy’s low-angle perspective of the world, his teacher, Miss Campbell, is a monstrously imposing presence. She wears bulging, flowery housedresses with flowing silk scarves, bright blue eye shadow, smeared like war paint, and penciled-in eyebrows, raised in a crooked and perpetual state of surprise. Her crowning glory, though, is a fiery red bouffant… Read more »
Halloween, 1982, and three brothers race through the darkness of a haunted suburban landscape. Frenzied in their quest, the boys cut a determined, unceremonious path across the well-manicured lawns of their little world. Their footfalls are crisp atop forgotten piles of long-dead leaves. They trample prized gardens slowly receding into dormancy. They pillage with all… Read more »
I’ve been chasing my kids around the indoor playground for close to an hour now. They scream with glee as I mutate into some hideous half-dad/half-alien beast, uttering sinister, monotone, Martian clichés. Needless to say, I affect the obligatory hunch and limp so as to afford them ample time to flee in terror. In my… Read more »
The time on the computer screen reads 11:18 p.m., and the loneliness sets in. (In truth, the accuracy of this time is questionable as my computer is often many hours ahead, and the date setting is often many years behind; 1982, to be exact.) Regardless of chronological inaccuracies, there is still the slightest twinge of… Read more »