Fiction of the Day
After the Haiku Period
By Joy Williams
The twins had long harbored the desire to murder their father and make the modest point that greed and desecration do not always go unpunished.
The twins had long harbored the desire to murder their father and make the modest point that greed and desecration do not always go unpunished.
Until now, I’d hardly believed that they could think, let alone create and then conceal elaborate lies about my life and my character.
In this country, you’re born the day you get your papers. Here, we don’t have a maternity ward, we have the police headquarters.
There was a bush that emitted a strong smell almost exactly like that of semen. Some men and women noticed it as they passed by. It was rather shocking, in a vicar’s garden.
From there the situation would quickly escalate, both of them bringing up recent affronts or humiliations, branching out to injuries from further back in time, wounds of increasingly ancient provenance coming to light.
Failure is the story, but the story itself is also failure.
He is swimming downhill, backward through time.
I found out only later that when my ma called Ensign Wang a lunatic, she’d meant it literally—he really was a mental patient.
My colleague Alassio is the only person left at the school where I teach who believes that the working class is the engine of history.
When my daughters turned twelve I initiated them into the mysterious powers with which women of my family line have since time immemorial been endowed.