map Macro-Fiction Archives

You are Unique

Issue No. 183 ~ August, 2012

She glanced back at her white board. That same feeling that had begun to plague her recently was happening again. Lately, instead of scribbling Greek symbols on her board, erasing a line and replacing it with an improved version, she would just stand back and look, her hands on her hips, trying to see the sense in what she was doing.

19th & Minnesota

Issue No. 183 ~ August, 2012

The grandfather had been told by his son there was a park within walking distance. Passing from not-q to not-p on the ultimate, changeless pavement, losing words and judgment in stillness and in movement, what he had taken in were the sounds park, wind, walking, ants.

My Father, Expert on Racism in America

Issue No. 182 ~ July, 2012

PS: Why did you send the initial email? Really, why? Not surface why, but really deep why? Why are you unable to take the hint? Why do you keep succumbing to to the urge to show me your politics when you know I find them very disheartening? Consider the deep why before you answer, if you answer.

Speak, Memory!

Issue No. 182 ~ July, 2012

In the night, coming through the monitor at their bedside, is a high-pitched squeal. Paul doesn’t know how, but it doesn’t wake his wife. Everything wakes her up, but not this. He slides out of bed and creeps back to his daughter’s room.

200th St.

Issue No. 182 ~ July, 2012

We pass some cherry-faced white girl in a dirty halter top and mismatching heels. She sticks out her thumb more out of instinct than anything else, but doesn't seem too disappointed when we don't stop. Up north the hoes tend to be a little more discrete when they're working.

Ask and It is Given

Issue No. 182 ~ July, 2012

The call came at midnight, St. Patrick’s. The poignancy unbearable – Damon in the witness box, green tie iridescent under City Hall florescent lights. Barry, awaiting his third try for the bar, was more than adequate as defense.

Jesus in the Field of Land Mines

Issue No. 181 ~ June, 2012

When she and the medical team finally arrived at the tiny airport in Phnom Penh, she stepped out into the heat of a blast furnace and immediately felt her clothes soaked in perspiration.

Brad’s House

Issue No. 181 ~ June, 2012

Brad and Stacie were always in bed when I arrived--lights off. Each time I put the key in to enter their house, I wondered if they had changed the locks. But it never happened.

Old Avenger

Issue No. 180 ~ May, 2012

Fifteen to one, he said. Three miles, two furlongs, good to soft. And he had an operation a week ago too, trainer said he wasn’t breathing well in his last race. Good earner if it comes through.