Blogs about Fiction

In the land of my father, as I recall, there was a pink Ganesha Scotch-taped to the back of the door. I pushed the door open, one hand parallel to the face of the idol, …

Addison finished washing his hands, flapped his fingers in the sink, tore a length of towel-paper from the dispenser on the wall and dried his hands, looking at his face in the mirror, and behind …

All they want to do is get out of their wet clothes but the key doesn’t work. As Hannah struggles, Joe stands behind her sniffing the warm, musty air of the corridor. ‘Stinks of mice.’ …