Stories by
Alisa Golden

She wants to drag him to the doctor so the doctor will tell her what to expect. But she knows what to expect.

Alisa Golden is feeling a little on edge at

The child said, “I don’t want to grow up and be drafted.” They told her not to worry because she was a girl. Somehow, that didn’t help.

Alisa Golden still worries at

Every time we meet you ask if I got new glasses. I thought we were better friends than that.

Alisa Golden tries not to make a spectacle of herself.

She could either have the baby or chemotherapy. Everyone else thought it was obvious.

Alisa Golden collects words:

You give me one of your wings so we can fly together. But I’m bad at this. We fly in circles until we have to swim home, separately, alone.

Alisa Golden is paddling around here somewhere.

Once again, he tells me that snow is paper-colored. Before I make the bed, I ask him one last time why he assumes the default is white.

Alisa Golden just woke up.

He was captured in the ocean of the well-endowed. Sired sixteen, killed three humans—they still won’t let him go. The audience loves him.

Alisa Golden is also reading Moby Dick.