Weighted Blankets

Chuck and Paulette had to sell the house after they retired because the taxes were killing them. They made sure the new condo had an extra room, but they also made sure to call it the guest room, hoping their youngest, Bonnie, would take the hint. She was what Paulette called “slow to fly.” Her … Continue reading →

Appealing

He would have preferred a job without the requisite chitchat, but after a year of shoveling snow, digging ditches, replacing rotted siding, and watching “Sanford & Son” reruns, Joe was relieved to get any job—even if it was working for the lesbians. The sign said “Colton Hardware Store,” but people called it the lesbian hardware … Continue reading →

The Cure for Unhappiness

Kathleen told Randall that the trailer was too small for both of them: they were big personalities who needed room to move. Mr. Souza, the rental manager, listened in. Tough breaks had taught him the importance of paying close attention while you showed the property, that how things were said was as important as the … Continue reading →

Skinny Bitches

They were all surprised to see Betsy when she turned up at Marie’s Pub a few months after her husband died, dressed in suede pants and a vest trimmed with rhinestones, wearing blue eye shadow and raisin-colored lipstick. Her white hair was feathered back and stiff like an extra in the movie “Saturday Night Fever.” … Continue reading →

White Dogs (Edited)

They were pure white at birth, the mother and her offspring, born six years later in the back of a cave where the roof meets the floor. The rest of the litter emerged almost unnoticed, small as golf balls and briefly gasping for air. The sand in the canyon dyed light brown the parts it … Continue reading →

Excerpt from Art on Fire, by Hilary Sloin, Available from Bywater Books

Isabella wore a swimsuit under her clothes. It was her latest innovation, to emphasize her shrinking form, the slow dissipation being the result of a diet Vivian had insisted upon after Isabella gained 26 pounds in the mental hospital. She sat in the living room now, on the day after Evelyn Horowitz’s death, awaiting the … Continue reading →

Lobster Hugger

Sandy was raised kosher and harbored a largely kosher palate excepting her weekly forays into the decimation and consumption of lobsters. She frequented the fish market on Abalone Street as opposed to the one owned by Greeks closer to her house, mainly because she lusted after the proprietor, a virile Arab with serpentine hands. She … Continue reading →

Radiohead

For a time, Veronica was my husband’s secretary. She had a nicotine-stained voice, pumpkin lips, and two different colored eyes—one ocean blue and the other primordial-ooze green. Her nose was like an apex with a bump at the top for jumping into the water. She typed ninety-five words per minute and never needed the spellcheck; … Continue reading →