Stories by
David Erlewine

My girlfriend reads me short stories when I’m napping. She picks authors I detest, those who should have their hands bound.

My sister won’t fly home. She has kids, she says. Loud ones. Yeah, I tell her, I get it. I never hear them yelling. Or asking to say hi.

When I call and say “I’ll miss you,” my mother says, “Can you hear me shrugging?”

When I got busted for the hit-and-run, Dad smacked Mom with a pillow. The next day, he placed himself under house arrest.

Instead of prison, I will walk the Napau Crater. The crunch of black lava may help me forget an old man, his ridiculously turquoise bicycle.

David Erlewine (@daviderlewine) lawyers, writes, edits flash for JMWW, and blogs.

My burned son hides in the basement. My wife left the handle facing out; she stays upstairs. I’m in the living room, looking up then down.

David Erlewine (@daviderlewine) has work forthcoming or in Elimae, PicFic, Tuesday Shorts, Pedestal, & Monkeybicycle.