Rumpus Original Fiction: Chicken
I used my fingers on the neighbor and he liked it.
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Join NOW!I used my fingers on the neighbor and he liked it.
...moreAt the end of the week, which was long with sleepless nights, Miri picked her heart out of the kitchen sink, put it in a paper lunch bag, and took it to the witch.
...moreJade Sharma discusses her first novel Problems, the complicated feelings that came with debuting to rave reviews, and her writing and editing processes.
...moreDid you see an animal? Did you see a bird? What did you see when you looked at me?
...moreAllow her to bewitch you as she bewitches all who cross her path.
...moreFor what, after all, is more monstrous than a woman who wants?
...moreGina Frangello discusses her debut memoir, BLOW YOUR HOUSE DOWN.
...moreThey were alone, and in his apartment, but not in the way he’d imagined it to be.
...moreShe wanted more, but couldn’t fathom releasing what she already had.
...moreDeesha Philyaw discusses her debut story collection, THE SECRET LIVES OF CHURCH LADIES.
...moreI want to see myself as a whole person.
...moreThe survivor is left to ponder whom he has become.
...moreWho is Adèle Robinson, really, and what is it, exactly, that happened to her?
...moreAdrienne Brodeur discusses her new memoir, WILD GAME.
...moreWe sleep and we pretend to sleep. We wait for the day to turn into night.
...moreAnd this is all like. The cloud is going around me.
...moreMy blackness, like my gender, was a sin.
...moreTessa Hadley discusses her newest novel, LATE IN THE DAY.
...moreI wasn’t into girl stuff, but I loved James Bond!
...moreIt is often a curse, this imagination of mine. Life pales in comparison.
...moreWhen the physical therapist explains the electric dildo she holds in her hand will reset the nerve endings in my vagina so I won’t need to pee every hour, I say, “Get it in me and let’s go.”
...moreThis is what I want him to think of me. The girl poised to surf a wave under the heaviness of the full moon, the ocean around her radiant with light.
...moreRatika Kapur discusses her latest book, The Private Life of Mrs. Sharma, the disappointing romance of affairs, and how people carry on after doing the unthinkable.
...more“What do you think about this,” he said, measured and cool. “What if we offer a service where people can pay to be in our family, but only for a few hours.”
...moreSomething about the twangy banjo and the melancholy vocals just made me feel less alone. And I hated being alone.
...moreMy gut is a red, fiery drum, a beacon of rosy light. My instinct to run is a bright radioactive pink arrow, a bloody blade. I was correct.
...moreI noted the weirdness, and then filed it away until a time I might really consider the implications of wanting to bury someone’s stockings. I was lost in metaphor, which meant I was lost in everything.
...moreI want to think of him as inhuman and selfish instead of an admirable man who eventually succumbed to a brain chemistry he had no control over.
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