Short Stories & Essays

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Short Story Archive

White Flags

A windstorm came up. Monica watched the trees bend and heard a loud crack. She ran to the kitchen window. The Redbud had snapped off at the ground, laying the whole magnificent tree with its black bark and green heart shaped leaves across the driveway. She raced outside to find it was a clean break that left the branches still intact, full of tiny pink buds that had already set for the following spring...

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Empty Chairs

It came on standard office stationery bearing the letterhead Families United, typed in Times New Roman, twelve font, single-spaced:Your birth mother has asked us to contact you on her behalf. She would like to connect, but you are under no obligation whatsoever. Your information is protected and nothing will be divulged without your permission. An email and phone number along with business hours are below...

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Binding

The road stretches out in front of me as far as I can see, all the way to the horizon, straight and flat with empty fields on both sides like enormous blank pages. Nebraska, almost halfway to San Francisco, I am alone on this endless stretch of interstate 80.The audible book supply is depleted. For a change, I'm riding in silence.In the rear view mirror, a patrol car with flashing lights screams toward me. I slow the car and pull to the side to let him pass...

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Holiday Magic

Deep set eyes in bony sockets, a long-ish sharp nose, skin draped over broad cheekbones reflected in Vernon Warder's rear-view mirror. He nudged the frame to accommodate his morning height. During the day, his spine would collapse somewhat, but each morning, after a night’s rest, he sat a half inch taller. He checked his watch again, a little after ten, a late start for his morning mall walk...

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Goose Eggs

At eighteen, Jess Hargrove was afraid of people his age, afraid he might embarrass himself. He spent most of his free time in the virtual world of gaming. His young body softened into an egg-shaped figure with an upside-down U of unruly hair. But one afternoon at his cousin's house up in Pittsburgh, an hour from home, there was this girl he met. He’d driven up from Steubenville, grumbling that he hated parties, but his mother had insisted and so he made the trip in his old Kia with the broken radio...

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Essays

Cathryn Vogeley Essay Who You Are NowCathryn Vogeley Essay Who You Are Now

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