Stories by Wendell Berry, Mark Fabiano, Cristina Henríquez, Aryn Kyle, Jess Row, Julie Schumacher, plus new voices in American fiction.
What Jarrat had in his life were sorrow, stubbornness, silence, and work. So when his sons needed him most, their daddy didn’t have much to offer.
I don’t let them forget anything. I tell them to remember it alphabetically: breasts, cervix, ovaries, uterus. Lying on my back, I take them through it, one exam at a time.
“Dad’s real proud of you,” I said. “Said it’s too bad you’re a thief, though. You could have done something good.”
“You left because you thought I was weak,” Joseph said. “What you didn’t know was that you were the person who was going to make me strong.”
Ranil wanted a company scholarship for his son, and would do what he must to make the American executive feel well cared for.
The marina had a proposition for him. They wanted him to leave, and they were willing to pay him to do it.
Tom wanted him to be prepared, to know what he was up against. But Gurukha didn’t want a pistol in his house. He wanted to move on, to be done with India, and with Amritsar.
Mary Jo Salter talks about her new collection, Phone Call to the Future; editing The Norton Anthology of Poetry; and her early days as an assistant poetry editor at The Atlantic.
A month of living in a suitcase, eating in airports, and cracking your forehead open against hotel-room walls in the middle of the night often comes to very little. But the only thing worse than going on book tour is not going.