I dropped the grammar lesson. Considering he was raised by apes, it was amazing he could talk at all. Truth be known, I felt sorry for him—such an icon once and now all but forgotten—so I’d been letting him live in my closet for two years. Rent free. That howl every hour on the hour. The constant worry I had lost my ever-loving mind. It wasn’t so bad until I got married.
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Putting this story (and myself) to bed. The submitting fun begins tomorrow.
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Roberto Bolaño’s Antwerp is the bestseller of our Memorial Day weekend so far, oddly enough....
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Elaine: Wait up!
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is it a small Moleskine? noooo, you ignorant fool…it’s my new iPhone case. it has…like…card slots...
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"Little Things," by Raymond Carver
Little Things by Raymond Carver
Early that day the...
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by David Foster Wallace. An essay that is dear to my heart.
For...
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“I’d like to go out in the front yard and shout something. “None of this is worth it!” That’s what...
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I’ve crossed some kind of invisible line. I feel as if I’ve come to a place I never thought...
This is fwriction, the official blog for the online literary journal, fwriction : review.
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