A giant mirror sat in front of the massage table. On the floor were bath towels that smelled of mold and alcohol. I watched the chiropractor place his thick, hairy hands on Ma’s ribs—watched him, watched him—pushing against her breasts as he hugged and pulled and lifted her from behind. The chiropractor urged Ma to relax and imagine herself floating on the sea. “You’re on holiday now,” he said, and Ma closed her eyes and leaned into him. “Yes,” he said. “Oh yes, that’s it.” The sky was ... [READ MORE]
NOTEBOOK
The Only Time I See My Sister
Is during the next family tragedy. She picks me up from the airport. Brings me a bottle of cold water, cucumber-infused facial wipes, an orange, and a jumbo box of Cheez-Its, which she knows I won’t eat. I’m always trying—for once and finally—to be skinny. I slide, sweaty and exhausted and chubby, into her passenger seat. “Where to this time?” she asks. “Bali?” She opens the water bottle because she knows I’m no good at that. “I was thinking Cambodia,” I say. “I hear the noodles are ... [READ MORE]
Damien, 32.
When I first started dating Damien, he told me that everything I knew about cancer was wrong. I had just survived a bout and it had been wrong. I was young, not very young, but healthy. I did yoga regularly and tended to my core with fitness videos I found on the internet. I drank fresh juice. Not knowing what came next was the wrongest part of all. So many holes opened up inside of me while I waited for the illness to go away, and when I got no answers the holes just filled with cancer. The ... [READ MORE]
Read the Winners of the 2022 Insider Prize
Lauren Hough may be known for her spar-ready online presence, but in real life she’s pure warmth: years ago, she overheard us talking about the Insider Prize—American Short Fiction’s annual contest for incarcerated writers—at a coffee shop in Austin, and she walked up, and proclaimed, “I want to help!” So we asked her to be the judge. This year’s submissions capture the uncertainty, loss, and despair so many of us have experienced in the past two years. But they also capture self-reflection, ... [READ MORE]
Bodies of Water
6:32 a.m. There is an agitation in the Morgans’ swimming pool. The water becomes abruptly more aware, as if nudged from drowsing. The September sun is edging over the horizon. A flurry of crows crosses the brightening sky. Their squabbling rings out in the morning quiet of this Palm Springs suburb. The ripples in the pool abate quickly. There isn’t a breath of wind yet, and the pump remains off at this hour. The water lies inert, held down by gravity, walled in by layers of concrete. ... [READ MORE]
A Random Strike
I hated my job at the bowling alley more than usual that day. The Maximum Lilac deodorizer had run dry. I was too busy renting out shoes to slap an out-of-order sign on Mission Impossible, which left me with a list of token refunds a mile long. My period was nine days late. Some adults nearby were talking about the war in Ukraine while their children tried to bowl with two hands. “Five bucks a gallon,” this bald dad guy said, then slugged beer. “And it’s not even our situation.” They were as ... [READ MORE]