“This is the beginning of the story, I thought. It could be published in some serious-minded magazine with monochrome photos of rusted bicycles.”
Cyn Vargas will be reading from her debut short story collection, On The Way, this Wednesday at The Blackstone Public Library (4904 […]
FICTION IS IN HIGH DEMAND FOR OUR FABULIST ISSUE.
“I open my eyes and remember I’m not at home in the safety of a room full of siblings. I turn my head toward Ina just in time to see the man swing the blunt side of the axe down and demolish her peacefully sleeping face. This is the sound of the egg cracking, but so loud my ear buzzes.”
“The doorbell rings again. This time I get it and smile when I see a neighbor child dressed as a sunflower. Her brother is a tiger. Their mother is behind them carrying the baby who dressed in a yellow bunting and is fat as a buttercup.”
“‘I can’t get out and check on you,’ Skip called out to the other car ‘I…got no legs and my arm’s all funny. I’m gonna start hurtin’ in a second or two…’ He heard the words coming out of his mouth. But couldn’t remember thinking or making them. Did he really have no legs? They’re there, he just can’t feel them yet is all. It’s that shock thing.”
“In the 3 o’clock hour he shimmies up from the floor boards, a dark grey vapor, partially translucent.”