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Fiction

Sketch

1968

Articles 31 - 38 of 38

Full-Text Articles in Arts and Humanities

How Do You Plead Miss Pruit?, Barbara Wiley Jan 1968

How Do You Plead Miss Pruit?, Barbara Wiley

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Agnes stared blankly at the fuzzy, unfamiliar ceiling above her. Rubbing a night of sleep from her eyes with a fist of knuckles, she stretched the cramps from her lanky frame in unison with a clearly audible yawn...


I Went To John Darley's Funeral Today, Terry Gogerty Jan 1968

I Went To John Darley's Funeral Today, Terry Gogerty

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went to John's funeral today few people there little to say guess janitors aren't really people least not important anyway...


Pussycat, Pussycat, Where Have You Been?, Thom Pigaga Jan 1968

Pussycat, Pussycat, Where Have You Been?, Thom Pigaga

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The walls were green, light green, a thick oily green that looked as if it would smear off in his hands. He kept his hands in his pockets...


Walking, Lloyd Quibble Jan 1968

Walking, Lloyd Quibble

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I stood, holding on to my cedar tree, and when my knees no longer shook, I let one hand come away from the tree and then the other hand fell off and I stood there, by myself, and I was not afraid, and I could walk, but only slowly and as I walked there was a woman who held herself out for me to see, and she let down her hair and opened her legs and said that I could lie with her...


Christmas, Dennis Hathaway Jan 1968

Christmas, Dennis Hathaway

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The best part of the day was about to begin. The women had finished washing the dishes from the big dinner and joined their husbands in the living room. The children, for the first time, were quiet and sitting still...


Tomorrow's Dust, Lloyd Quibble Jan 1968

Tomorrow's Dust, Lloyd Quibble

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An old woman, face lined with time's scratches and slipping spectacles, plays the collar of her prim, gingham house coat, and presses closer to the dust-mellowed lace curtains...


The Aluminum Cross, Leo Rickertsen Jan 1968

The Aluminum Cross, Leo Rickertsen

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"How do you feel?" "A little warm, but not bad." I gaze down at the kindly old face. Her eyes are closed now, but they will open soon to drink in another gray glimpse of the ambulance...


Jesus Loves Me, Wendell Casey Jan 1968

Jesus Loves Me, Wendell Casey

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"Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so..." Louise could hear Cindy's favorite song as she walked toward the apartment. "Cindy, Mommie's home." Louise stopped a moment, shifted the heavy sack of groceries and caught the door before it could bang the wall...