Topic: fiction

A Message From St. James Hospital

A Message From St. James Hospital

INT. WHITE ROOM

MARY (a serene-looking woman of about 40)
faces the camera.

MARY
This is Christina.

A picture of CHRISTINE (young, smiling woman)
fills the screen.

MARY
Three years ago, Christina was
diagnosed with a rare form of
blood cancer. Doctors gave her
only months to live. Then she
found St. James Hospital.

A picture of an impressively modern hospital. Sleek. More »

The Girl Who Fell In Love By Herself

The Girl Who Fell In Love By Herself

Once there was a girl who lived alone, but she was not as alone as she wanted to be. She lived in the heart of a city, a middling city, a city of no great importance by the sea, and every day she walked through crowds and against crowds and around crowds, and heard the people’s conversations, and smelled their trash, and saw their children, and waited politely for their cars to pass before crossing the street.

So she took herself and she moved further west in the city, where the streets flattened out and the sun took its time setting in the evening and there was room for her. This was better, but she was still almost never alone. There was always someone coming around the next corner, always a car idling down the street, always someone’s voice echoing from a few houses over. Someone always needed something, someone always wanted something.
More »

This Week In Matthew McConaughey-Placenta News

This Week In Matthew McConaughey-Placenta News

The moment had come, as moments like these often did, when he had considered himself the safest from it, sitting as he was at the kitchen table (well, under the kitchen table, really, since it was a lot easier to develop his kundalini in a womblike space and the Spanish tile didn’t feel very womblike) in the dozing, half-shuttered light of the Malibu afternoon. Camila had just padded into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and smiling from a nap. He felt very centered. She was looking at a coconut. Things were perfect. Then:

“I heard from my mother’s placental shaman last night,” she announced, and his heart tightened. Not in the usual way it tightened after spending four hours inverted under the kitchen table. A bad way. More »

Language Professors Hate Him

Language Professors Hate Him

They were small-minded fools, was the long and short of it. Babbling, small-minded idiots, holed up in their rabbit-warren offices, buried in books, learning the simplest of languages in piecemeal. Swallowing knowledge in thick chunks, like baby food, regurgitating most of the useful bits in the process. Pelicans, that’s all they were. They’d heave whatever glistening scrap looked most useful into their undiscriminating gullets and choke it down. More »

A Visit With Dear Prudence

A Visit With Dear Prudence

And then the little letter-writer went out from her garden, and took the road to the foaming whirlpools, behind which lived the sorceress Dear Prudence – though who would call her dear, no one living knew. She had never been that way before: neither flowers nor grass grew there; nothing but bare, gray, sandy ground stretched out to the whirlpool, where the water, like foaming mill-wheels, whirled round everything that it seized, and cast it into the fathomless deep. More »

A Very Sexy Christmas Carol

A Very Sexy Christmas Carol

The chimes were ringing the three quarters past eleven at that moment.

“Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask,’ said Channing, looking intently at People‘s robe, but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?”

“It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it,” was People‘s sorrowful reply. “Look here.” More »

Scenes From Miley Cyrus’ Third Wedding

Scenes From Miley Cyrus' Third Wedding

It was four hours into the third ceremony and Ashley Tisdale was starting to show signs of the effects of an eight-day bender. She’d disappeared for a huge chunk of time during the video montage, then reappeared under the Red Bull tent drinking something vicious and green out of a mason jar. “I can’t trust you,” she told the Red Bull spokesman repeatedly, sobbing openly. “I love you, but I don’t trust you.” She hit him in the face before curling up in a patch of grass and falling asleep. More »