Fiction of the Day (or is it?)

"When I was in third grade my father was going to take me to the beach. Just me. It was supposed to be a special day with just the two ...

The bar was smelly, smoky, sticky. Francia had no place to lean, lest she takes home the gummy film on her silk sleeve. She backed away from...

They stopped at a food cart in the square and waited in line for the bearded man with gauges in his earlobes to hand them free samples of hi...

They both sighed silently when they saw the E 9th St sign, niggling memories unspoken. "Let's see if there is a 12," Francia s...