Karlee Kapler
No Streak of Mercy
I tip-toed into the bathroom and made sure not to turn on the light in the hall. I didn’t want my parents to become suspicious. I had visited the bathroom several times that evening, and … Read the whole text
I tip-toed into the bathroom and made sure not to turn on the light in the hall. I didn’t want my parents to become suspicious. I had visited the bathroom several times that evening, and … Read the whole text
The summer after I finished grade eleven, I moved back to London to escape my life. I lived there with an Italian girl named Gina Pezzi, inspired initially, in my melodramatic phase, by Friedrich Holderlin, … Read the whole text
It was a week before Barbara’s fifty-third birthday when the government announced the lockdown. She thought that the virus couldn’t choose a worse time, given that this week she was meant to have a birthday party … Read the whole text
Myrna Ebenezer had a sprawling house south of Lakeshore Boulevard at Clarkson. She lived there with her dog. She was looking for a tenant for her basement apartment. I was looking to move out of the basement … Read the whole text
Wanda said, “You should see this girl I know. Well, woman really, I should say woman. What a babe.” It was a sultry afternoon three weeks from the start of school, and we were dead-bored down … Read the whole text
The road was a two-lane that blundered across a desolation hardly to be equaled, while taking you from nowhere to nowhere through the desert West. In the middle of this nowhere was the town of Emmetsville, a
… Read the whole text
Day of Terror
THE day they took us was like watching a bad film. We heard gunshots in the distance. We did not know what it was or who was shooting. But there were so … Read the whole text
The girl laid motionless in the bed. Smirking, the man separated her legs and took off her panties. The smell of the girl wafted into his nostrils and he hungrily licked his lips. He moved like a … Read the whole text
People only ever refer to a place as their hometown if they’ve left it, Jamieson thought. This place was just home. People who moved away from Cape Cullow didn’t return, save for family visits … Read the whole text
The summer after I finished grade eleven, I moved back to London to escape my life. I lived there with an Italian girl named Gina Pezzi, inspired initially, in my melodramatic phase, by Friedrich Holderlin, ‘the … Read the whole text