... in at night.” “That’s okay,” Jean said. “I think I have one at home.” She didn’t want to tell him that she couldn’t carry it alone. When Margaret dumped her she was left without anyone in the city intimate enough to help with practical matters. “I’ll pick...

... reason he didn’t get a DUI picking up Chris from his Mathletes competition was because he went to high school with the cop. How he had told me a million times that he stopped drinking, cold turkey, the day I was born, and so now he was jeopardizing our special bond, the heart-to-heart connection...

...Wayland Stallard © 2011 Wayland Stallard 2011 Wayland Stallard Going Places You were right from the start. You saw trouble coming four years ago when Oriel made an excep- tion and baptized Cleo a year early in Bold Creek in Momma’s white wedding dress. Cleo didn’t want to wear...

...Ajay Vishwanathan © 2011 Ajay Vishwanathan 2011 Ajay Vishwanathan The Color of Turmeric The wind whipped the white sari hooded over Chhaya’s head, expos- ing hair that fell in deliberate waves. Walking behind her, Sarla noticed that her mother-in-law didn’t show a single strand of gray...

... Menck- iewiezce, I like your style. The truth is I wasn’t sure she knew my name. But I didn’t want to ask her and find out that she did. I didn’t want to look dumb. Neither Jenny nor her daddy was much for talking. But my folks did their best to engage them in conversation and pointed out...

... and ran to the front door. But she didn't go in. She walked to the center of their small yard, where the sidewalk running the arc of Hunter's Crossing and the one leading to the Simmons's front door meet, and she sat down. She looked up at her husband's work. She stayed that way...

.... “No, that was with his daughter. I mean the fat-zapper thing, with his son.” “Yeah, I heard that one,” said George. “I didn’t,” I said. “Go ahead and tell it.” “Well,” Sherm said, “Sniff is visiting his son’s apartment one time, and he notices this strange electronic device...

...- milk onto my laptop and didn’t even blink. minnesota review 86 (2016) DOI 10.1215/00265667-3457591  © 2016 Monica Pacheco 23 24 the minnesota review Before I had any companion animals I had a person named Susan. We lived together...

... of guy. But it didn’t work like that with Effie. When she wanted something it took up all the air in the room. So I didn’t think about Macon, not like that. Effie brought up the hot springs at the hardware counter. It was Friday. I guess she was feeling braver than usual. Maybe...

... a watchdog all her life —​but she’d always barked only at strangers, at what she didn’t know. Now she barked at anything that moved, at Oscar, at George’s wife, Elsie, at Henry, their son. At everybody but him. She could sense who he was, she’d always been his dog. George she knew by heart...

... in the term “neoliberalism.” I guess this is where you also have to understand that my arguments within Marxism have always been about how Marxists didn’t get geography. They didn’t get difference, and I understood that part of the critique of Marxism that was coming out at that time...

..., fat like one of those grossly overstuffed pillows from Pottery Barn. She didn’t bite or scratch and she came when I called, leaping onto my lap, already purring, as if the anticipation of a caress was enough to rev her engines. As pets 66 the minnesota review go, she was thoroughly...

...Emanuel Mitchell © 2008 the minnesota review 2008 Emanuel Mitchell A Crazy Sunday A childhood friend of mine named Lawrence had told me to come to his house that rainy Sunday. I usually didn’t go over there except when we walked home from school together. From time to time I would...

... also noticed a human head.” “Oh, it’s something new I’m trying this year,” she said. “Not sure it’ll work.” I wanted her to say more, but her tone made it clear the conversation was over. I didn’t like where this was going. I studied my head in the mirror. I...

... of vegetable oil. 60 Minutes would come on in a half an hour. A soggy sunny day had leaked into nighttime. That was the weekend when spring felt close for the first time, and I’d opened all my windows to let it in. My house had a raw cold feel to it, but I didn’t notice until I...

.... Italian women chose my register although other lines were open. I didn’t need to be told to double bag, to place bleach and cans on the bottom of their shopping carts, no glass against glass, eggs and peaches on top. No scanners then, we memorized...

...?” All I knew was that Holden Caulfield had gunned down John Lennon on a New York sidewalk that Monday. Caulfield got out of a taxi, or Lennon did, I wasn’t sure and, to be honest, didn’t care, not until I noticed that Robin did. My parents listened to The Beatles, those...

... professors and team- teach. I met Carolyn, but we didn’t teach together until 1978, which was actually outside the terms of the fellowship. We taught a course together that we called The Heroine’s Text, because by then I knew that was going to be the title of my book. That changed everything for me...

... had dark rings around his eyes as though he’d been crying the whole time. His haunted, frightened look ground salt into my pain. He lunged to meet me, hugging tight. His skin was hot, feverish, and he didn’t let go after the initial greeting. I searched for an answer to his unspoken...

... sure our clothes didn’t reveal any infractions that would draw unwanted attention. My mouth turned dry and my breath quickened. It wasn’t hot but I could feel the sweat forming rivulets on my brow. In my experience, the Asian is the rarest of all prisoners...