Free Trial Offer Try The Sun at no cost or obligation Get your free issue

Browse Sections

Fiction

Fiction

Blooming

You can hardly remember now how you would pull out the ribbons she weaved through your hair, launching them into the wind as you pedaled faster on your bike. You have left that girl behind. You believe in the power of ribbons and roses now. You are a woman.

By Tanya Rey September 2020
Fiction

Groundhog, Woodchuck, Whistlepig

When he tired of talking, he’d slap a red, hand-shaped conclusion to the quarrel onto my face, pressing his brand upon me, the mark that labeled me as his.

By Samuel Adams September 2020
Fiction

White Folks

I was working in the yard, raking out the sunny patch where I plant tomatoes and cucumbers, and feeling the pot gummy I’d eaten a half hour ago start to come on, announced by an uneasy self-consciousness and a brightening little buzz.

By John Holman September 2020
Fiction

Firebirds

After barre, Mme. Francesca follows me to the locker room and tells me I’m officially going to the Cupids dance program this summer and I just can’t stand it.

By Alysandra Dutton July 2020
Fiction

Murder Me Nicely

I’d brought one small bag. A squirrel looked at me and my bag and then ran off, I was sure, to tell the rest of the woodland creatures that a woman had just arrived who had no idea how to pack, let alone survive in the woods: Quick, tell the local serial killer. All that from one squirrel side-eye.

By Lucie Britsch May 2020
Fiction

Maryam And Yeshua

Maryam: And then the soldiers — oh, the soldiers. I’d take my time with them. I’d do to them everything they did to you. Maybe I’d leave one or two alive so they could learn how life can be a long nightmare.

Yeshua: I tried to make people see that all we have to do is turn around, leave that whining precious self behind, let it go and see the wholeness of God’s Name, but people want magic and miracles and kings—

By Kate Osterloh May 2020
Fiction

Man And Mouse

I will tell you this: If there is a God, he does not live in a slaughterhouse. That much I know. I hope the God everyone argues over so viciously is not looking out of those dead, glazed pupils, asking us to see him finally.

By Ann Wuehler April 2020
Fiction

The Second-Toughest Son Of A Bitch In East Gary, Indiana

He would have said, sometimes it’s not about the truth. Sometimes it’s about kindness. Especially when it comes to family.

By Sam Ruddick April 2020
Fiction

Mark On The Cross

MARK HOHN, a handwritten sign said. DEC. 19, 2013. 17 YRS. Here’s what struck me like a bus. It happened to be Dec. 19. He’d died exactly two years earlier. I sat on the ground before the cross and told myself to pay attention, that this was no coincidence.

By Maria Black March 2020
Fiction

No One Dies Alone

I got the call around 2 AM. I’m surprised I even picked up. “Can you come in?” the voice said. I couldn’t say no. So here I am. Bedside. Hands folded. Lots of silence. Lots of time. Nothing to do but think.

By Robert Mulder February 2020