Issue 35, Final Fringe


A Short Walk from the Congo River

by Patty Somlo 04.13.2007

Elizabeth made love to Nganga that night as if he were a beautiful black jaguar she’d decided to ride. She wrapped her thighs around him, letting his heat warm her. From Nganga, Elizabeth pulled power and energy into her calves and up to her thighs. She rode Nganga, taking his name like a hot lozenge on her tongue and, as the name melted to liquid in her mouth, she swallowed. She let the force of that dark river swirl through her and then pulled out its thick wet sound. more »

Word Perfect

by Kirstin Chen 02.08.2007

I want to write a story. Set in Singapore. About a girl who never felt like it was home. Who always felt different from everyone around her – her German name, the way she talked, the way she thought. Who moved away and thought she’d found home someplace else, but now realizes that the someplace else only felt like home because she was in love with a boy who made it home. more »

Five Things I Could've Done with Five Dollars

by TJ Dietderich 12.08.2006

Who am I, Clark Kent? Long story short, we split a prawn something-or-other bag of chips and drank from the water fountain at the Square. And it was okay because mom was pleased with herself. But London is gone, and now chips don't taste like prawns, and before this guy at the dollar store even speaks, I know he's going to use the H word and I'll be powerless. more »

The Books

by Chip Cheek 11.01.2006

Sometimes, late at night, when I’m browsing the thousand or more books on the shelves in my father’s study, I can hear them, the books, calling out to me. “Oh! Oh!” they say. “Pick me! Pick me!” And no matter… more »

This is Dave Radio

by Tom Conoboy 11.01.2006

Feel it fill your mind, fill your head. You like that, Dave, it’s like having your tummy tickled. Feel that music, become it; you know it’s so much easier when you let go. more »

The Revolutionary's Wife

by Rosalie Morales Kearns 09.07.2006

One thing I should explain right away. I still refer to the Great Man as my husband, though he divorced me forty years ago. You probably didn’t know I existed, did you, till you started your research. I doubt anyone’s left alive who remembers me. Except him, of course. Coffee? No, stay here, I’ll bring it out. more »

Songs Like Madness

by Maura Conley 07.08.2006

In these days of singing, Mother glided across the hardwood floors of the house. A hum was on her lips. It seemed that Mother, and her song, was just out of reach of the children. She’d sneak around the dusty corners of the house avoiding the children completely. more »

Killing McGinty Safely

by William Donoghue 05.04.2006

In the driveway he grappled with the grocery bags, getting them out of the trunk of the Saab, trying to pick up all four at once, fool that he was, bending and lifting like this in such cold weather, at his age no less, something would go, pull, snap. But there you were, he was in a hurry to get inside, hated being watched, and old lady Meltzer next door was at her usual post by her kitchen window looking out at him. Nosey old biddy. more »

The Damned Eleven

by Jim Meirose 03.03.2006

Builder came in the battered door, sat down in his rickety wooden folding chair, and opened the black and grey covered book titled THE STARS. He turned the pages slowly and carefully as though they would fall out if turned too roughly. Words came up from the book into his eyes. more »


by Christina E. Dent 02.03.2006

Introducing Vintage Fringe, a monthly feature highlighting excellent writing from a past issue of Fringe. But really, Annie was nervous. Deep in her coat pocket, she fingered the precious package she carried, thumbing the protective Saran Wrap over and over, the slick plastic rebounding gently from the touch of her fingers. She couldn’t believe it. It was there, in her pocket. Soon she would be able to enjoy the fruit of her illicit labor, if she could make it to a secure place. ... more »