map Macro-Fiction Archives

Rustle in the Coconut Groves

Issue No. 247 ~ December, 2017

Devu sits on the veranda floor, listening to her husband blowing a conch shell, a ritual that follows his evening prayers. He keeps the door of his puja room closed, but the sound finds a way out. She grabs a fistful of roasted mussels from …

Infamy

Issue No. 247 ~ December, 2017

The house cannot hold one more person. Grace and Robert live in this 3-bedroom foursquare with their four children. Robert’s mother Bridget has lived with them since she was widowed in 1931. Grace’s older brother Patrick moved in after the Crash, the same brother who …

Brainstorming

Issue No. 247 ~ December, 2017

The year was 1947. Two men sat in a diner. The first, a man mostly failing at his dreams of being an accomplished science fiction author. The second, a government-contracted epidemiologist. On most occasions while waiting for the waitress to bring their breakfasts, they took …

Forty-Four

Issue No. 247 ~ December, 2017

It was a party to which I would have declined an invitation if my wife didn’t want to go so badly. So there we were, sipping cocktails. Mine had more vermouth in it than bourbon, never a good sign. The host, Albert Teeth, commended us …

Remodel

Issue No. 247 ~ December, 2017

When I trip down the stairs, I go head over heels, then heels over head. I land on the newly installed hardwood floor in our entryway. As I lie with my cheek mashed against the cool walnut surface, I’m pleased to see that it gleams …

The Wreckers

Issue No. 246 ~ November, 2017

Being a wrecker and living in the Exumas can be a tough, invisible life. You go up and down the broken chain of Bahamian coral, day after day, trying to beat the natives to the good spots, searching for wrecks. It is salty, lonely and …

Crystal

Issue No. 246 ~ November, 2017

We drank every day. We took any drug we could get our hands on. We had sex wherever we wanted and never once were we ashamed of someone seeing us. We hated ourselves at times. She cut her wrists, and we both thought of suicide, …

One Oar

Issue No. 246 ~ November, 2017

Charles found the boat stuck in the sand,  after a storm pushed it ashore. The hull solid enough to float. No one came up through the waves calling for it. The way the boy saw it, the boat now belonged to him. Grandfather slept upstairs. …

The Studio

Issue No. 246 ~ November, 2017

Last year they brought an old tugboat to the surface, refurbished it, and turned it into a bar. The inside is solid wood with heavy beams coated with multiple layers of antique white paint. A huge wooden figurehead hangs from the ceiling. Her chest arches …

Cancer

Issue No. 246 ~ November, 2017

The doors down the long, stifling hallway stood tall dark, thick, and heavy as a castle’s. Franklin stopped at the next door, got the picture ready he had come to show, and knocked. There was no answer. He cracked the door open. A woman sat …