Fiction

Original fiction from Identity Theory. Subscribe: RSS

The Last Gasp Hotel

woman in bondage

Somewhere in the inaccessible reaches of my brain a control panel was lighting up, buttons were flashing, bells were ringing, but my feet were nailed to the floorboards of the Last Gasp Hotel.

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How I Picked My First Communist In America

Though I am definitely myopic, I’m not naïve. I’ve met Communists in America before today. But not the real ones.

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California Über Alles

After this, you will leave the chocolate factory for a job on the Kölner-Düsseldorfer Linie bringing American tourists to see castles along the banks of the Rhine.

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Curve

She laughed again, throwing her head back and shaking her hair. She took another long sip of her drink and placed it back on the table, on its marked wet circle.

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The Crow

crow

Glen had stayed behind last year when the other boys in his class had come to Sydney. I winced at him. He had hair like wheat, and he wore a checked shirt instead of a school uniform. I felt duped.

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In the Eye of the Beholder

pretty woman's eye

Joel’s giggles turned to snorts and a volley of small farts as he tried desperately to avoid becoming a basket case on the spot.

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Project

drawing of robot

When I told her I lost my job, she cried. I said, "It’s ok, I’ll get another job, we’ve got a little money, we’ll be fine." She told me, "That’s not why I’m crying."

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The Voyeur’s Reflection

voyeur reflection

"We both know how to manipulate the public. Let’s play the game."

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A Tangled Web

Doctor Weller had as much as told him his pain and exhaustion, his misery, were all in his head, that he’d gotten inert and maudlin in his old age.

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Dinner at La Grenouille

The limousine turned the corner, eased up to the curb and parked. I thought: Fuck. I must still owe one hellacious gambling debt.

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A Field Guide to New England Fathers

I took the binoculars away. “Only fat kids do bird-watching. Pick again.”

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How We Made A Difference

On Halloween, the neighborhood children dress up like neo-conservatives and go door to door spreading lies.

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Under Water Eyes [Another Short Poem]

Still, now in his mid-twenties, Allen often imagines what it must be like to have "underwater eyes."

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The Spectacle

Somewhere over the hill a siren went off. There was a gunshot, and then the siren stopped.

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Pat and Mike

He was told that his condition was rare and always fatal. Gremlins with tiny pickaxes deconstructing his heart. He might die tomorrow, or in a year.

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    Identity Theory publishes fiction from new and up-and-coming writers, with special attention paid to promoting strong literary voices. To contribute a short story, read our fiction submission guidelines.