Fiction of the Day
The Beautiful Salmon
By Joanna Kavenna
I’ve always loved salmon. Not to eat, as I don’t eat fish, but I’ve always loved salmon in general because salmon jump and no one knows why.
I’ve always loved salmon. Not to eat, as I don’t eat fish, but I’ve always loved salmon in general because salmon jump and no one knows why.
Dear Mr. Bernstein: At the request of your publisher and our client, my col-leagues and I have now read and discussed the typescript of your book. We are pleased to report that, with the exception of some
No joke, Tyler and Travis now have separate bedrooms. No problem, you would think, as there are four nice ones available. Still the smallest in the family, 124 retains the least large room, the one
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Since few were living on those heights aside from the children, deaths were few as well and funeral arrangements simple. They carried him out on a farm wagon drawn by a work horse. On steep grades
I give thanks. I wonder if their sensors pick that up. I wonder if the monitor registers an unfortunate rise in temperature. I extend these fingers. In this white room it is difficult not to think of bodies.
They were touring New England, escaped lovers in mid-June, when the signs sprang up, hand-lettered in red and green on shiny white boards.
The advisor led me to the bathroom and toilets, running water through the basins and flushing a toilet to demonstrate thoroughness.
Even when I ran into Grinaldi, my psychiatrist, seated on a bench with a pigeon on his head in Washington Square Park, or eating dinner in Bickford’s among the old men who lived in single rooms, he had an air of calm and certainty that re-assured me.
Okay. We’re finished, done. My head careens, heart flops. She clenches her teeth, whirls her back to me, says “Just go. Please? Will you just leave?”
The morning was a sealed envelope. Madame Armance Lenot had touched her dry, white lips to it one last time, and the light had gone from it, as it goes a moment for those who shut out a love letter by closing their eyes, only for her, her eyes wide open, it was forever.