Prose Archived

Haiku

by Marian Pierce She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally decided to walk through the door. She said good morning in Japanese to the man waiting beside the stretcher, and his smile and deep b...
door handle

Baby in the Closet

by Marianna Crane I heard the soft hum of oxygen flowing into a tented crib as I made my way down the corridor of the pediatric unit. From another room, a child barked a wet cough. I stopped in front of t...
icy road

Black Ice

by N. West Moss Franny Bigalski did not want her god-damned wind chimes thrown out when she died.  She sat at the dining room table, looking through her address book for Irene Anderson’s new cell number.  Ir...
closeup of white cracking paint

Once Removed

“I’d help you look,” Elise’s mother says from her spot on the recliner, peering over her reading glasses and her copy of The Bourne Supremacy. “But I just had my nails done.  At your favorite place.  House of F...
operating room lights

Old Dogs

It was well past midnight when a ring awakened Krebs’ from a dreamless sleep.  The old surgeon groped in the dark for the phone.  His hand found the receiver, and he pressed its cold plastic to his ear. “Dr....
empty road with view of mountains

Second Time Around

In late January, 1967, three months after my back had been broken in a car accident, the radiologist and orthopedic surgeon decided I could move gradually from being prone to upright and walking.  First I had t...
Willow tree in the spring

Souvenir

October 2000 "Good morning, Mrs., uh, Ms. Falloughs?" "Please, call me Ellie." Eleanor Falloughs extended her arm across the desk. "Thank you; I will."  The man offered his own hand, which was warm and s...
Red Texture

The Crimson Mask

It was July.  San Marco was filled with tourists feeding seeds to pigeons.  I drank a bellini at Cipriani.  How ordinary the place looked, like the out of date Italian restaurants in Jersey suburbs.  I bought a...
speed blur of tunnel lights

Pajamas and Bathrobes (a novel excerpt)

Francis was sitting in the back seat of her father’s car, staring herself in the eye in the rearview mirror. She rested her left hand on the bag that lay next to her, filled with clothes and books, and put ...
sky with sun shining behind clouds

Confession

“I’m worried.” “What are you worried about?” I asked. Mr. Jones was a sixty-five year old veteran teetering between living and dying, more dying than living. I knew it, and he knew it. A cancer had eaten ...