Concerning Abigail
A story by Chad Durling
By • March 30, 2012
Ms. Bradford:
About thirty years ago, my family had a slave named Abigail. She was a sweet girl, but stern, and you could never ever …
By • March 30, 2012
Ms. Bradford:
About thirty years ago, my family had a slave named Abigail. She was a sweet girl, but stern, and you could never ever …
By • March 30, 2012
Editor’s note: read Part 1 here, Part 2 here, Part 3 here, Part 4 here, Part 5 here, Part 6 here, Part 7 here, and Part 8 here.
This time there was …
By • March 30, 2012
She stops in the middle of the dark, empty, street to listen. To a buzz – electric maybe, she doesn’t quite know. Flanked on …
By • March 23, 2012
Mary was walking as quickly as she could down the sidewalk. Her boss had kept her later than usual. Even with the late dismissal, …
By • March 23, 2012
The train crawled down the tracks into the prairie dark. From his window-seat, Jimmy could see little – the blur of gravel and shrubbery, …
By • March 23, 2012
Editor’s note: read Part 1 here, Part 2 here, Part 3 here, Part 4 here, Part 5 here, Part 6 here, and Part 7 here.
The door opened with a whoosh. …
By • March 23, 2012
I cannot think of anything worse than being born into this world as a slug. It’s because of this that I kill any slug …
By • March 23, 2012
The windows shook and rattled as the over-powering winds off the Atlantic Ocean blew inwards towards the rickety old cabin she had since long …
By • March 23, 2012
Jean-Pierre ran down the hot streets, his boots clacking on cobblestone beneath him. People were shouting all around him, attracting more and more people …
By • March 23, 2012
Too easy. It was too easy. A ladder lead us to the roof; a quick kick sent it down and hid it in the …