Rumpus Original Fiction: State Facts for the New Age
“I’m a shock absorber for tragedy,” I say, not really knowing what I mean. “Maybe I should just move to Hawaii. I hear that’s a happy place to live.”
Fiction
219 posts
Rumpus Original Fiction: Mandarin Imperial
Growing up, I understood my father through observation, and I suspect that he understood me much the same way. I liked to think our love was purer that way. Like two stray dogs who found each other and are blessed enough to just get along.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Monkey Men
Still lying on the bed in the Wausau hotel room, I started counting ceiling tiles. From above the covers. Not under. Never under. I always feel constricted, under.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Rhino Girl
But these were not men, she realized. They were a cackle of spotted hyena, bright-toothed in the dark, and they were laughing at her.
Rumpus Original Fiction: On Documentation
What is it like to be you? he was always asking, in his way, and it seemed a stupid question then. I didn’t know. I could lie better than I could tell the truth. I hadn’t left yet.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Service Area
Even though the summer customers were the worst, always impatient on their way west to the places of her dreams, she envied them.
Rumpus Original Fiction: As Soon as I Stop
I feel dizzy, but I've got the donkey's tail in my hand and if I pin it just right, my whole life could change.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Swans and Other Lies
As she presses against Patterson, she feels her feet softening, losing gravity. He’s embracing her, willing her to disappear, swallowing her.
Rumpus Original Fiction: The Ghosts of St. Louis
If I was a ghost, I wouldn’t want nothing to do with the world that killed me.
Rumpus Original Fiction: People and Oranges and People
Something must remain of me, of course. Someone has to lock the door behind us when we go out.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Grow
I look like springtime, everyone agrees. Soon I’ve added a pair of gloves, brand new, but stomped in the dirt for authenticity’s sake.
Rumpus Original Fiction: Divina
Look at the star, your star, in my hands. It bears your name. I was told it does not have much longer to live. I hope you do not mind my untrimmed nails.