Willa Rabinovitch was a finalist in the Editors’ Prize contest. Other stories have appeared in Sewanee Review and The Georgia Review.
Dec 01 2001
We are nothing alike. If my mother had had a coffee-colored baby with nappy hair after she went off with Clay Dixon, that child would look more like her than I do. Now, of course, she has the sagging cheeks, the giving-way at the jaw line. At the airport, any of the old women getting off the plane could have convinced me they were her.
Dec 01 1998
Benny Padilla wasn’t Marty’s first one. The first one was a big-toothed boy with fingers like sausages he pistoned inside her until both of them fell away aching. This on the afternoon couch in the boy’s living room, the parents at work. Marty not at her dance lessons and not expected home until dinner.