I came along to this place called the Squirrel Ranch, where they had actual live squirrels and rabbits and a rooster in a big outdoor hut of mesh wire. A few deer wandered around in the grass. Postings announced that all these creatures had been rescued but not from what. A series of cabanas and tall fencing sheltered it all from the world beyond. On the varnished log walls inside hung the antlers, heads, and hides of all kinds of animals, antique-looking fishing rods, canoes, snowshoes, old … [Read more...] about Swung
short story
A Century Ends
It is decided at a summer staff meeting that The End of the Century will be the schoolwide theme for the year. Since it would be a mathematical fallacy to celebrate the year 2000 as the start of the new millennium, they all have to agree that it is not the turn or dawn of anything yet, just the end. Ellora and Jane, both first-grade teachers, have been passing notes back and forth with their own suggested titles for the schoolwide theme: The Beginning of the End; A New Beginning Begins; The End … [Read more...] about A Century Ends
The Chiropractor
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...] about The Chiropractor
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...] about Bodies of Water
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...] about A Random Strike
What the Tide Returns
She counts the children as they come through the door—one, two, and three—to reassure herself that they are hers. She can’t say just how happy she is to see them; she’s missed them all summer long. She hardly recognizes them; they’re browner than ever before, and somehow warmer to the touch. She hugs them and her hands come away coated with fine grains of sand. Both boys come back taller and sporting fresh haircuts. The girl is fuller around the hips and her hair is braided in a different … [Read more...] about What the Tide Returns