Rumpus Original Fiction: Boy Moms
It’s nice of the Baptists to let us use this space––though of course, we know they’re trying to convert us. We’re okay with that. It feels good to be wooed.
Fiction
211 posts
Rumpus Original Fiction: orange is thirsty
Vultures don't touch the orange. They touch the white.
Rumpus Original Fiction: The Familiar Phantom
“Why are you here?” I asked after a pause. “After all these years.”
Rumpus Original Fiction: Three Flash Stories by B. Do
There’s something painful about being here in San Francisco. I can’t say what. I’m always losing my words.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Before Love, Before Loneliness
You make stuff up all the time. You excel in subjects that require making stuff up, like English composition and moral science.
Rumpus Original Fiction: The Birdcage
It was like holding a lighter above a pool of gas. Something was on the verge of rupture.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Fichte Died Here
Seven digits, no area code. Local. Hello, a voice said.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Nosedive
Standing and staring at a familiar nothing, you’re suddenly peaceful, suspended; you don’t want to move an inch.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Crusher
Under your puffer, you sweat from the exertion of the approach, but each step brings cooler air. It won’t be long before the rock becomes numbingly cold.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Care and Feeding
“He’s called before—it’s all routine,” the dispatcher assured him.