Fiction

Willem leaned toward the window and squinted. “Someone’s belaying down the face of that mountain.”

“In the dark?”

“He uses the light on the Swiss flag.”

“That swinging orange thing?”

From "Reflected Light: Novel Excerpt"

That’s just like Pierre, Kobe said. He loved to hang out on the edge. This time the grader backed into the passenger side. She said it all matter-of-factly. Without bitterness. She couldn’t jump, she said. The back was piled too high with luggage. She was right next to the drop off. Pierre couldn’t see the guy backing up just as he tried to streak past. Kobe was silent for a while.

From "Renga: A Short Short Story"

Kate Hallett Dayton

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