Fiction | April 23, 2019
Singapore
Lisa Taddeo
BRB was driving to New Morning Market with her daughter when she heard a rustle from the trunk. The child, almost three and stunning in a way that made BRB think she wasn’t hers, turned in her car seat. To their left Mount Tom Pond shone poor and beautiful. Fat men in beige sat in the center, ice fishing. At the farm stand across the road they sold the daily catch, broodstock Atlantic salmon, largemouth and calico bass, chain pickerel, yellow perch, sunfish.
If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.
Want to read more?
Subscribe TodaySEE THE ISSUE
SUGGESTED CONTENT
Fiction
Jan 07 2022
Pineland
PinelandJason Brown 1966 Dear Lemuel, For me, all the consequential decisions are in the past, except, as you will see, the decision to write this letter. You may rest assured… read more
Fiction
Jan 07 2022
Reclamation
ReclamationDevin Murphy My whole life I’ve had this feeling at my core that people wouldn’t remember me from one meeting to the next and was surprised, even touched, if they… read more
Fiction
Jan 06 2022
The Last Reported Sighting of the European Goldfinch
The Last Reported Sighting of the European Goldfinch in MichiganDavid M. Sheridan When my friend Essa said, some years ago, that she had become a “birder,” I couldn’t place the… read more