Fiction

  • Fiction,  Issue 39

    Woman, 46

    "Listen" collage by Tiffany Dugan

    by Wendy BooydeGraaff

    The morning of my thirty-ninth birthday, my fingertips looked hazy, as if I suddenly needed glasses. When I took off my socks (I always slept in socks, even in summer) my toes, too, were strangely abnormal. Transparent. The toes came back for a few hours on my fortieth birthday, but the day after the obligatory party, other parts of me began to fade in a spotty sort of way. My tailbone, then my left shoulder, the side I slept on. Strange, the sensation of being on the shoulder but appearing to hover above the bed.

  • Fiction,  Interviews,  Issue 39

    Definitely Better Now: An interview with Ava Robinson (MFA ’22) on her debut novel

    Interview by LIT Books Editor Jonathan Kesh

    Ava Robinson’s Definitely Better Now is a romantic comedy, or at least it is in part. How else you might classify it is trickier, which is part of its appeal.

    The book begins with Emma, the narrator, uneasily but earnestly celebrating a full year of sobriety after a difficult break from alcoholism, which runs in her family and was never quite shaken by her father. Per the rules of her New York Alcoholics Anonymous chapter, she’s held off dating to focus on keeping her own head above water,

  • Fiction,  Issue 39

    Jakob as Worm

    "Still City Full Moon" painting by Nuala McEvoy

    by David Leo Rice

    This story marks the beginning of The New House 2: The Chapel of Humiliation, sequel to the 2022 novel The New House, about a family of outsider artists roaming the American interior in search of The New Jerusalem, which they believe will only be revealed in dreams. At the end of that novel, an adolescent boy, Jakob, watched his father sacrifice his mother in his stead, and vanish into the woods, leaving him alone with her headless body.

  • Fiction,  Issue 38

    Boxed

    image curtesy of the Public Domain Review

    by Margaret Ries

    Make the pieces small. Easier to explain a hand or a foot. A whole body’s something else.

    But what to do about the blood? What if the ground sheet of plastic is not enough? I had imagined the job would be as easy as sawing logs for a fire. But when I start in, the blood begins oozing thick and gloppy onto the basement floor. It’s hard to keep a grip. She’s already gone stiff and she shoots down the plastic like she’s on one of those waterslides I used to make for Danny out in the backyard. 

  • Fiction,  Issue 38

    The Guy Who Has 15 Things

    image curtesy of The Public Domain Review

    by MJ McGinn

    1)    Don’t look now, but they’re coming. They want your shit. They want it. They want it and nobody cares how you never had a birthday party. They’re hungry and wanting and wanting and hungry and wanting, and most of all, they’re coming.

    2)    I live on the backs of trains where it’s warm enough. If you can’t count the spokes, it’s moving too fast to get on or off.

  • Fiction,  Issue 38

    Self-Guided Study

    image curtesy of The Public Domain Review

    by Meredith Gordon

    This quiz is for self-enrichment only. Its content may be triggering.
    Any reaction should prompt further self-study. There is one correct
    answer for each question, but there are no wrong answers.

    A classroom, a back row, a dilemma: A 500-page statistics book sits with
    its spine uncracked on your desk. Under your desk, thick, glossy issues of
    Cosmopolitan, Glamour, and Self, are splayed open
    in your lap.