Apr/May 2010

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f i c t i o n


(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole piece!)

Should I Weep

Sunanda stared as the oxbow lake disappeared. Intestines made oxbow shapes, masses of waste snaking within vigorous, peristaltic walls. Like the river bending past her classroom, so compacted with refuse that a bottle tossed onto it didn't sink.

Indira Chandrasekhar

When Love Began

I had inherited every inch of my grandmother's tall bum. This, coupled with my orange, flawless skin made me the talk of the school. Like a ripe pawpaw, I paraded my beauty, standing tall like a giraffe while the tresses on my head touched my shoulders, thanks to Dark and Lovely.

Thabi Di Moeketsi

A Sword from my Country

He stared into my eyes, cracked-gourd smile across his face, and when I looked away, I felt him take in the rest of me. I counted to three, then met his stare hard, a trick I'd used on the tenth grade boys who stole looks down my shirt. The boys turned away, cheeks on fire, but the Major's gaze slid up my throat and brushed my lips before locking with my own.

John Carr Walker


"Adaobi, be wary of the likes of Chidi, who harbor sordid plans to pull you overboard. They always come with sugared tongues and colorless insides."

Jill Okpalugo-Nwajiaku

A Quiet Girl

Her glass-fronted cubicle was the only enclosed space in the open-plan office of Lunar Logistics. There had been plans to add more, but the designer had changed his mind along the way. It sat awkwardly in the vast space, like a space module or a display case.

Trevor Wadlow

Mercy, Mercy, Mercy

I had no sooner hung up the phone than the rain, and the wind, stopped abruptly. I walked around the house throwing open all the windows. I still remember the freshness.

Peter Cherches and Don Skiles


Is he trying to make her jealous? No. What she loves about him, he is blunt, what she hates, the force of a blunt object—she was hot. She tries, "Well, as long as she was hot."

Caroline Kepnes

Getting Lost In A Blizzard Can Sometimes Lead To Strange Occurrences With Good Men Who Ought Not To Be Trusted

Her mind had its cold moments, but she still knew she had to move from this very Point A to a Point B down the road where a married man whose wife had gone to Ecuador on a short trip (drugs, Teena knew, or connections thereto) awaited her arrival for a nice, secluded weekend of sex and food and music.

G. K. Wuori