The only cure was lying on her back and looking up at the sky—losing herself in the drift of clouds during the day and the rise of stars at night. Sometimes she wondered if anyone could see her, if anyone was watching.
At the end of the path, just before the turn that would take her to the convent, she stood facing the hedge, running her hands along the bushes. “Here,” she muttered to herself, “here, here,” pushing a little at the dense green branches. And finally, her hand went in, a space big enough for a slender girl to push through.
The children were small and you were pretty and you were young and you kept your door locked at night and your journal under your pillow.
“There’s a… freedom allowed you in poetry. And I trust that, even if I can’t explain it. It bleeds into my fiction, in many ways.”
“I find a lot of comfort in nihilism.” Eric Boyd on David Bowie, black and white films, and the end of the world.
This story was a finalist for the 2021 MAYDAY Fiction Prize The first letter came on a Monday morning; Patty knew it was Monday because her head hurt from Sunday drink specials. When she opened her eyes, the room spun like it did every morning. “Holy shit!” came her brother’s voice from the kitchen. […]
“Everyone Has a Gift” is our second installment of Mary Grimm’s novelette, Nothing Bad. Follow this link to read part 1, “The Fire:” https://maydaymagazine.com/nothing-bad-part-1-the-fire-by-mary-grimm/
I grew up reading short stories by writers from the 1950s and 1960s and loving them: Eudora Welty, James Baldwin, J.D. Salinger.
The picture was everywhere. Seemed like every time I turned my phone on it’d beep and vibrate and ring until I turned it back off. Yo did u see? Hey are you ok? Was that ur friend? To all three, yes. The cop that shared the photo was suspended with pay. He takes a photo […]
This story was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. The paint had chipped off of one of Mary’s eyes and the other had faded and begun to fleck off in places, mutating her maternal gaze into something more sinister, full of agony. I held eye contact with those eyes or, the one eye and the plaster […]