Fiction Commons^™

Nothing, Nathan Rivas

Bryant Literary Review

It's all I have to offer.

Not a penny for the man

shaking his cup,

John, Paul, George And Me, Brian Daldorph

Bryant Literary Review

I was the Beatles' first drummer,

played the first gig at The Cavern

Laundry, Will Walker

Bryant Literary Review

It's what separates us from the beasts.

Plato did not say I only wear

the idea of laundry;

This Man's Life, Brian Daldorph

Bryant Literary Review

If only for a short time

a man has all that he wants:

Escape, Dolores Redfearn

Bryant Literary Review

Mambo sounds provoke the silence, waking the sleepwalkers in the street below.

A Fifth Of Old Crow, Mitch Lescarbeau

Bryant Literary Review

Feathers black as an undertaker's wingtips,

he struts resplendent with a monocle and a walking stick

Laundromat, Sheila Golburgh Johnson

Bryant Literary Review

Out of the washer

endlessly swirling,

damp and wrinkled

and knotted from harsh

The Man Who Will Perform My Colonoscopy, Charles Harper Webb

Bryant Literary Review

As I slouch in the shower, drained by fear

and laxatives, does he look forward to a day

With Birds Flying Below Her, Patricia O'Donnell

Bryant Literary Review

Where Muriel wants to be is sitting on a terrace, one on a mountain with a view of the ocean.

The Acid God & The Anti-Dad, Saint James Harris Wood

Bryant Literary Review

With his dirty blond grown-out Beatles haircut, secondhand Hawaiian silk shirts and second-rate flip-flops

Love Match, Ann Robinson

Bryant Literary Review

Beast with cufflinks and condoms,

studmuffin with biceps a woman could climb,

Oh My Brother, Katie Koumarianos

Bryant Literary Review

The rifle stands wedged into the ground

between standard issue combat boots

The Higher Faith, Elton Glaser

Bryant Literary Review

New Orleans, August 2005

When the floodwaters licked at our ankles

And wind prowled around the house,

Bravo, Lisa Starr

Bryant Literary Review

And when, at last,

September rolls around again,

there is a wild flurry among the leaves

Older Brother, Thomas A. West, Jr.

Bryant Literary Review

As a child I wondered

what the lobster saw in the last second

before it flopped twisting into boiling

Whistler's Mother, Lisa Starr

Bryant Literary Review

"Why I are you whistling?" I ask.

Have I been? He replies.

Is it annoying?

Into The Storm, Tatianna Williams

Bryant Literary Review

Olivia sits in the chair near the silent radio and reaches for her brush with a trembling hand.

The Charleston Church Massacre, David Dragone

Bryant Literary Review

The reporter with perfect hair and perfect teeth

asked Mrs. Tragedy how she felt

now that her innocent son had been gunned down in church.

A Litany For Tender Mercies And Tougher Meats, Sean Gill

Bryant Literary Review

"Reebs, chicken, poke chop, slice beef, chop beef, turkey laig, links, baked pohtatah, boot ann, bolo,

Grounded, Marilyn Ringer

Bryant Literary Review

From the pavement

of the small-town

parking lot I watch

Family & Football, Daniel R. Speca

The Mercury

No abstract provided.

It Was Raining In Oranmore, Brendan M. Raleigh

The Mercury

No abstract provided.

Guest Room, Allison Goldston

The Lindenwood Review: a journal of literary prose

No abstract provided.

What Slides From The Pain Chamber, Megan D. Henson

Theses and Dissertations--English

A collection of short stories and one novella featuring women’s issues, fairy tales, a coming-of-age story, and a pregnancy that turns out differently than expected upon delivery.

Letter From The Visual Editors, Margaret Brunet, Ann Fitzpatrick, Binaypreet Singh, Kristi Tom

Calliope

No abstract provided.

Traffic Tyrants, Siddarth Senthilkumaran

Intertext

No abstract provided.

A Simple Time, Angela M. Anastasi

Intertext

No abstract provided.

A Father's Smile, Benjamin Fox

Intertext

No abstract provided.

Little Mister Utah, James P. Austin

English Faculty Publications

My mother likes to tell me why she's famous. Usually it's late on some weekend night, after drinks at The Lasso, when she comes home fumbling with her keys, pressing her weight against our trailer's plastic door, falling into our little home I've made warm and snug for her, and I'll hand her the green tea I've had steeping for an hour, keeping it warm with shots from the microwave, until it's brown and thick. She plops down on that plush chair that's older than me, and she points to the faded poster of David Lee Roth, that first guy …

Hunting Stories, Dave Storment

EWU Masters Thesis Collection

No abstract provided.