American

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“Milly, what do you think you’re going to do?”

“I don’t know.” “That’s what I’m asking. That’s what I’m scared of. What if I can’t get my money? What if they say no? What do I do then? Go back to school, and...

This is the story of my daughter, Evey

It took me a long time to get over my anger at the world. I felt better after finding this story. A couple years ago, my wife and I saw a program on TV...

As the days lengthen and the nights lengthen, the seasons change

All this change is at once very familiar and strangely unfamiliar, for we have become well used to the order of events. The seasons have been arranged in roughly the same way for at...

Winter is the season of the year in the northern hemisphere, while the fall is the season of the year in the southern hemisphere

The fall is in fact the opposite of winter; all other seasons are compensations for the loss of the summer. Fall is the most intense period of the year, that is, the season when...

I’m sitting on the beach with a bottle of Corona

My heart pounds on my chest and I’m in a constant state of shock. I’ve never been prouder of any child. I’ve never been this relieved to have a daughter. This motherfucker is on...

My daughter Genevive was born eight months ago

For the first month of her life, Genevive slept soundly and never cried. After that, she slept through the night. She sleeps now at the drop of a diaper, with no pain. She sleeps...

Ford put the car in gear

He hit the steering wheel a few times with his left hand. He wished he’d put on his right hand. That would make the work a little easier. He hated waving his arms around,...

This is the first picture of Evey

Her name is Genevive. Her dad, grandma, and I call her Genevive. Everyone else calls her Evey....

A few years ago, I wrote a story about a man who dreams about his childhood

This story has a sequel, but this time Victor is the main character, and the dreamer, a new one called Richard, is in his seventies. Richard’s dreams are more vivid than his memory of...

In our series of letters from African-American journalists, novelist and writer Paula Hawkins reflects on her journey to identification as she writes about her...

"We hear your poor Rick,” they say. "We see your poor Rick.” I love how you describe it. “We see your poor Rick,” doesn’t it sound a little like you’re inviting him to kill...

Must-read

Tommy’s mission was to escape from the waking world

He needed to figure out a way to get back to his own body, so that he could complete his mission without having to go through the motions of a waking life. There was...

Beth stood atop the headland, watching the waves crash gently onto the ocean, feeling suddenly as if she was being pulled away from herself,...

Yet as she gazed out into an ocean that seemed to beckon as an unknown singer sang a song of longing, Beth felt suddenly as if she had been the one to place the...

The green eyes looked at Danielle, and then at the knight

“Sorry,” Danielle said, as she saw the last of the needles float out of sight, and the wall in front of the knight collapsed. She looked back down at the green eyes. “Is it...