For the last three years, American Short Fiction has sponsored a contest for incarcerated writers in Texas. A group of writers at the Connally Unit, in Kenedy, Texas, came up with the name: The Insider Prize. Each year we get dozens of essays and short stories from men and women in prisons and jails across the state, some handwritten and others produced on typewriters. They tell stories about their lives before prison, about the conditions inside, and about the many places their imaginations … [Read more...] about Announcing the 2020 Winners of the Insider Prize
Fiction
Karst
He wakes in the landscape of his childhood, the karst. The house is surrounded by stone that dissolves in water, limestone that becomes fissured and hazardous because of its own weakness. The clints are the parts left standing. Grykes are the absences between. It is in the grykes you find life: hart’s tongue fern, butterfly orchid, primrose. Sheltering in the sinkholes. This is a place of constant change. Changing stone. Changing light. As a child, he would go out at morning and all around … [Read more...] about Karst
In Nature
A week before Christmas, Maggie’s son is married in the bare spot of land under the hemlocks where nothing ever grows. Maggie hangs white lights in the branches. She covers her son’s pregnant bride in a pale woolen blanket. She wakes early the morning of the wedding and spends hours digging a path through the fresh snow so that the guests—the bride’s aunt, and friends from the ranch where the young couple works—can come up to her cabin for warm bread and jam and champagne. At some point, glitter … [Read more...] about In Nature
Appointment
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I said, unwinding my scarf and piling my layers on an empty swivel chair beside the stylist’s station. The crumpled clothes looked shabby in the gleaming, mirrored room, like something you’d find under a bridge. I was wearing pretty much everything I owned. This little jaunt was the first time I’d left the house in weeks, and let me tell you, you could die out there. A band of polar winds high up in the atmosphere held the city hostage, locked in a bitter freeze. I exhaled … [Read more...] about Appointment
Lobsters
Tom’s barrel chest jerked up, then down at regular intervals, following the dictates of the hospital ventilator. Attached to the machine, he seemed all torso, his lower half an afterthought, like the straw-haired Resusci Annies that he’d haul around the high school gym during CPR units. That was long ago, when he was the coach and Helen was the music teacher and they were, improbably perhaps, in love. Fluids skied down IV lines and into his arm. Bruises bloomed at the injection sites. Soft … [Read more...] about Lobsters
Contributions
We have been practicing esusu for a long time. Our mothers did it, our mothers’ mothers did it. And probably their own mothers, too. We’ve never had a problem of this substance before, nothing so significant until this woman showed up. Nothing we couldn’t fix, anyway. This is how our system works: each woman has one month to contribute a certain amount of naira. Our names are on a list, and when that month is over, whoever’s number one takes it all. Then the contributions begin again, and at … [Read more...] about Contributions