Madhavi and I always race through the stone alley behind our houses to the makbara. The alley is rough; once I tripped and split my chin open. Five stitches. Since then, I don’t run fast. Madhavi wins the races, but I climb the monument quicker. We call it a monument,...
This fall, Fractured Lit invites you to take a deep-dive into the fun of writing microfiction! Join us for four live, ninety-minute workshops designed to spark your creativity and elevate your craft. Each individual workshop will cost $20. Or bundle all four together before the first class for $60. All workshops will take place over Zoom and a recording will be shared with everyone who registers, so you can participate no matter where you’re located.
Mama sends me to the deli down the corner to buy yeast because she’s making pogácsa, even though I don’t even like pogácsa because it’s too salty and too dry and looks too much like a toad, but Mama bakes it anyway because, as she says, “Mothers Bake Pogácsas”,...
I can see you clearly now you’re leaving — a child of the garden again, and yes, everything is better outside, and as you say, it always was this way; it always was. I drink tea while you paint the long legs of the table, turning them red to green. You will not rush...
Edward Hopper, Eleven A.M., 1926. Oil on canvas, 28 x 36 inches. I’m in the ochre of it, the end of morning. The light is thick, impasto, nearly edible. Across the courtyard I hear a woman singing to someone. What is the song? I keep looking at my body—how is it...
We challenged writers to create new stories of up to 1,000 words based on the artwork of Edward Hopper. We were amazed by the submissions we received and are ecstatic to now present the shortlist! People in the Sun Beginning House on Heslop Hill The Bridle [Bridal]...
We're finally back and so excited to announce the three winners of the Ghost, Fable, and Fairy Tales Prize, judged by Melissa Llanes Brownlee! First Place: The Changeling Girl by Sarah Nell Second Place: Dolly Builds her Brother out of Butter in the Room her Mother...
The light that glowed through Lisa’s bedroom window was a radiant thing. So radiant, in fact, that Lisa’s mother disappeared within it. There was no sound, no physical indication that her mother was taken. Lisa simply recalls her mother there, and then not there....
Lotte sits on the edge of the bed in an ivory vest and pants, made from the same silk as her wedding dress. Her auburn hair is still pinned. It took almost half an hour to get right this morning and maybe she rolled it too tight because she’s had a headache all day...
The woman waters the plants in her garden before she leaves for her morning walk. The man sits at his easel, painting, before he leaves for his morning walk. Once outside, both glance at their watches and quicken their pace to avoid being late. When they arrive at...
We are finally back to present our long-awaited micro prize winners, picked by Steve Almond! Huge congratulations to our winners and thank you to everyone who participated! First Place: No Voltage on a Quiet Road by Maxwell Orsen Second Place: Burial at Sea by Eileen...
The 90-year-old producer had a hole in his heart. A shaky, unpatchable hole. He wanted me to fill it with kisses, candy, and jokes. I handed him a travel-sized Mars bar that I got on the plane. "Only a monkey," he said, "would offer this old sack of bones a gift from...