Posts Tagged ‘ Fiction ’

“Girt by Side Effects,” by John Domenichini

Aug 20th, 2016 | By

It started three months ago. I was getting ready for work when I noticed my feet didn’t feel right. I looked at my shoes and realized I had them on the wrong feet. It was kind of funny, but how does a sober adult put his shoes on the wrong feet?

I switched my shoes and went to work. I told my wife about it that night and we had a good laugh.



“Go Badgers!” by Christina Dalcher

Aug 20th, 2016 | By

Dear Incoming Students of the Class of 2020!

Please join us for a performance of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet this evening in the outdoor amphitheatre. After the play, soft drinks and snacks will be served in the Jefferson Courtyard.

Go Badgers!



“Teratology 101: A Handbook for New Mothers in the Monster Age,” by Christina Dalcher

Apr 20th, 2016 | By

To ensure a head of disproportionate smallness, it is recommended the mother be an alcoholic. While moderate drinking may effect inadequate head size and facial defects, the desired malformation of ears, nose, and digits cannot be guaranteed without regular and heavy consumption of alcoholic beverages, particularly during the first trimester. Spirits are preferred to grape-based products.



“Pitch Meeting: Election 2020: Running Mates,” by Kathryn Paulsen

Apr 20th, 2016 | By

“See, it’s Barack and Hilary all over again, only she’s a Latina firebrand married to an ex-priest and he’s a rabbi married to a feminist scholar who’s a dean at Harvard.”

“Hey, what if he’s a rabbi and dean of the religious department at Harvard, and she’s the prosecutor who cleaned up Houston?”

“Works for me.”

“So they hate each other’s guts, but it’s not because of the religious and ethnic differences.”



“Pinning,” by Lindsay A. Chudzik

Apr 20th, 2016 | By

I played tennis with Madeline Morling each Monday. Everly Trickett and I did tea on Tuesdays. Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays I lunched with other ladies who lunched. I spent weekends shuffling my children to play dates with the Morling, Trickett, and Kipling children, and shuffling my husband, Andy, and me to dinner dates with their parents sans the Kiplings. Andy didn’t approve of Russ Kipling, our newest neighbor, because he had secured their home through what my husband called “a tacky foreclosure.” Also, his wife worked in the non-profit sector while Russ cared for their twins. Andy often said, “Never trust a man with unscuffed shoes, Corrine.” He insisted this pointed to laziness and an unwillingness to provide for his family.