“Fingers Hooked”

I wanted a fuck and he wouldn’t give it to me because his wife was home sick with the baby and he was worried. They had vacationed in Cozumel and she had returned with a parasite which she now claimed ate through her brain. She was forgetting words and turns of phrase. We sat in my office and he played with his tie. He had brought me a book that made him think of me—Seneca’s piece on the brevity of life—and I cradled it to my chest like a great source whose energy sustained the office walls. (The mosquito thinks itself the center of the world, Nietzsche said.) He laughed about the men in suits down the hall and whispered about the guy whose wife had left him for a woman weeks before. I touched his fingers, our index fingers hooked, and he squeezed at my hand. He had to run and check on the wife, he said. Out the door he flew—his slacks, his jacket, his hair—and I noticed the daylight coming through the window as if it hadn’t existed a moment before. I thought of the rest of my day: the walk to the parking garage, the purchase of canned tomatoes at the store.

 

Related Posts
Filter by
Post Page
Featured Fiction New Fiction Essays/Articles (all)
Sort by

“Symptoms and Remedies”

I try to interpret the signs of my own body, and think back to a medieval literature class I took in which we
2019-09-30 11:05:53
emilylivingstone

8

“Tourists”

Coach unzips his blue tracksuit, zipper fizzling down the suede, as the wind carries the sound off the bluffs at the
2019-09-23 11:04:54
kyledillon

8

“Pen — or Pencil — For Hire”

If the unfinished manuscript in your desk drawer is anything to go by, you have succumbed on occasion to the
2019-09-13 23:43:58
learmont

8

“The Colors of Pain”

“Gut pain’s always the worst,” says the medic. I could tell him he’s right, but I want to keep my pain p
2019-09-02 10:58:28
skip

8

“Two Chambers”

I. The boys go out for groceries but come home with matching rifles. “Antiques,” Son
2019-08-26 11:06:59
suttonstrother

8

“Baby Lanes”

“Excuse me. I’m over here in the lane next to you and noticed you’re bowling very well tonight.” “That’s quite
2019-08-07 09:34:00
ctank08

8

“160”

Not many people knew what I knew about my brother and his wife. I knew it all. The booze, the opioids, the
2019-08-02 23:35:47
mwcox

8

“Nebraska”

In 2014 tornadoes swept across the northeast corner of Nebraska, destroying the small town of Pilger. Families stood
2019-07-25 12:37:33
rlittell

8

“Margaret Atwood in Paradise”

In paradise, they are forever putting on makeup and sweating out of it. You can tell time by the number of times
2019-07-17 10:44:12
amy-stuber

8

“The Reckoning”

I was four years old the first
2019-07-05 23:29:53
dakotacanon

8

About Lana Spendl

Lana Spendl’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Cortland Review, Hobart, Greensboro Review, Monkeybicycle, Quarter After Eight, Atticus Review, Prick of the Spindle, Midway Journal, Gargoyle, and other magazines. She holds an M.F.A. in creative writing and an M.A. in Hispanic literatures from Indiana University. She can be found online at lanaspendl.com.