White middle-classness has since infected the neighborhood, though, and now

everything is frenzied with renovation. In the past few years the black people have
mostly withdrawn. The homeless stayed for a while, because our neighborhood abuts
Bo Diddley Plaza, where, until recently, churches handed out food and God, and
where Occupy rolled in like a tide and claimed the right to sleep there, then grew
tired of being dirty and rolled out, leaving behind a human flotsam of homeless in
sleeping bags. During our first months in the house, we hosted a homeless couple we
only ever saw slinking off in the dawn: at dusk, they would silently lift off the
latticework to the crawl space under our house and then sleep there, their roof our
bedroom floor, and when we got up in the middle of the night we tried to walk
softly because it felt rude to step inches above the face of a dreaming person.

On my nighttime walks the neighbors� lives reveal themselves, the lit windows
domestic aquariums. At times, I�m the silent witness to fights that look like slow-
dancing without music. It is astonishing how people live, the messes they sustain,
the delicious whiffs of cooking that carry to the street, the holiday decorations
that slowly seep into daily d�cor. All January, I watched a Christmas bouquet of
roses on one mantel diminish until the flowers were a blighted shrivel and the
water green scum, a huge Santa on a stick still beaming merrily out of the ruins.
Window after window nears, freezes with its blue fog of television light or its
couple hunched over a supper of pizza, holds as I pass, then slides into the
forgotten. I think of the way water gathers as it slips down an icicle�s length,
pauses to build its glossy drop, becomes too fat to hang on, plummets down.

There is one mostly windowless place in the neighborhood, a yellow brick

monstrosity that I love nevertheless, because it houses nuns. There used to be six
nuns there, but attrition happened, as it does with very old ladies, and now there
are only three kindly sisters squeaking around that immense space in their sensible
shoes. A Realtor friend told us that when it was built, in the nineteen-fifties, a
bomb shelter was lowered into the porous limestone of the back yard, and during
sleepless nights, when my body is in bed but my brain is still out walking in the
dark, I like to imagine the nuns in full regalia in their shelter, singing hymns
and spinning on a stationary bike to keep the light bulb sputtering on, while,
aboveground, all has been blasted black and rusted hinges rasp the wind.

Because the nights are so cold, I share the streets with few people. There�s a
young couple who jog at a pace slightly slower than my fast walk. I follow them,
listening to their patter of wedding plans and fights with friends. Once I forgot
myself and laughed at something they said and their faces owled, unnerved, back at
me, then they trotted faster and took the first turn they found and I let them
disappear into the black.

There�s an elegant, tall woman who walks a Great Dane the color of dryer lint; I am
afraid that the woman is unwell because she walks rigidly, her face pulsing as if
intermittently electrified by pain. I sometimes imagine how, should I barrel around
a corner to find her slumped on the ground, I would drape her over her dog, smack
his withers, and watch as he, with his great dignity, carried her home.

There is a boy of fifteen or so, tremendously fat, whose shirt is always off and
who is always on the treadmill on his glassed-in porch. No matter how many times I
find myself sailing past his window, there he is, his footsteps pounding so hard I
can hear them from two blocks away. Because all the lights are on, to him there is
nothing beyond the black in the window, and I wonder if he watches his reflection
the way I watch him, if he sees how with each step his stomach ripples as if it
were a pond into which someone had tossed a fist-size stone.

There�s the shy muttering homeless lady, a collector of cans, who hoists her
clanging bags on the back of her bicycle and uses the old carriage blocks in front
of the grander houses to mount her ride; the waft of her makes me think of the
wealthy Southern dames in dark silk who once used those blocks to climb into their
carriages, emitting a similarly intimate feminine smell.

There�s the man who hisses nasties as he stands under the light outside a bodega
with bars over its windows. I put on my don�t-fuck-with-me face, and he has yet to
do more than hiss, but there is a part of me that is more than ready, that wants to
use what�s building up.

�Ghosts and Empties� by Lauren Groff

This poignant story follows a mother on her evening walk as she contemplates the
history of her neighborhood, the personal lives of the people within, and her own
raging emotions. Though short, it�s a powerful read for those overcome by feelings
in their own lives.

�The Cartographer Wasps and the Anarchist Bees� by E. Lily Yu

A finalist for both the Nebula and Hugo awards, this short story is more than it
seems. While on the surface it�s a tale of the battle between bees and wasps,
underneath it carries deeper political themes and questions that you will want to
discuss with your book buddies.

�The Faery Handbag� by Kelly Link

We�re betting you�ll find this Kelly Link story as delightful as we do. Genevieve�s
grandmother Zofia claims her handbag houses a group of fairies. One day, Genevieve
discovers if it�s true. This acclaimed story won three major awards � the Nebula,
Locus, and Hugo.

�The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere� by John Chu

What if it rained every time someone lied? That�s the world where Matt exists in
this fanciful, thought-provoking John Chu tale. When Matt needs to come out to his
traditional Chinese parents, not to mention discuss marriage with his partner,
he�ll have to weather the challenges� in more ways than one.

�St. Lucy�s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves� by Karen Russell

Those of us who adore Karen Russell�s magical realism know that this story is a
must-read. A group of werewolves� daughters come to a halfway house run by nuns,
where they are encouraged to civilize. But the girls struggle not to fall back on
their old wolfish habits.

�Younger Women� by Karen Joy Fowler

We�ve got a serious crush on this story from the author of The Jane Austen Book
Club. Jude�s suspicious when her 15-year-old daughter, Chloe, starts dating a
mysterious boy. She becomes even more so when he comes to dinner, because Eli is
far from normal�

�Queenie� by Alice Munro

This short by Nobel Prize�winning Alice Munro is a slow burn, but powerful. After
her sister Queenie elopes with an older widower, Chrissy reflects on her own
choices and what could have been.

Classic Free Short Stories

If you haven�t read these classic short stories, you�re missing out. Cozy up and
take 15 minutes to read one of these free short stories today.

The Nine Stories collection by J.D. Salinger

If you loved The Catcher in the Rye, you won�t want to skip this collection of
Salinger stories published in 1953. Of particular note are �Perfect Day for
Bananafish� and �For Esme � With Love and Squalor,� two of the more well-known
tales, both featuring children and illustrating the haunting effects of war.
�The Dead� by James Joyce
We�re so curious about the shocking twist in this story by acclaimed Irish author
James Joyce. At a lush Dublin New Year�s Eve party, Gabriel�s wife tells him a
secret that will have lasting impact � on him and the reader.

�The Lady with the Little Dog� by Anton Chekhov

Published at the turn of century, this Chekhov story follows a married man who has
a brief but passionate affair with a younger woman whom he meets while she�s
walking her dog. It�s rumored to be a favorite of fellow classic author Vladimir
Nabokov.

�To Build a Fire� by Jack London

Readers who are drawn to Jack London�s stories of survival in the wild shouldn�t
skip this short. Set in the frozen Yukon Territory, it follows a man who unwisely
decides to hike with only a dog for company and is forced to put his survival
skills to the test. You�d better read this one with a hot cup of tea or coffee
nearby.

�The Monkey�s Paw� by W. W. Jacobs

If you haven�t already read it, �The Monkey�s Paw� will unsettle you � and make you
think very differently about wishes! When the White family is shown a mummified
monkey�s paw which is given the magical ability to grant wishes, Mr. White can�t
resist a simple wish. But the price he pays is ghastly�

�The Cask of Amontillado� by Edgar Allan Poe

Horror fans � especially those who�ve read Poe�s other work � will find this
revenge story delightfully macabre. After his friend Fortunato wrongs him,
Montresor lures him during the carnival season to the catacombs, where he
introduces the man to a truly sinister fate.

�The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County� by Mark Twain

A quirky Twain tale that is not to be missed! Jim Smiley loves to bet. But when he
finds a frog, trains it to jump, and wagers that this prized frog is the best
jumper in the county, he learns a painful lesson.

�Bartleby, the Scrivener� by Herman Melville

This story is one of the last published by the Moby-Dick author. One day, at his
Wall Street copyist job, Bartleby refuses an assignment from his boss, saying, �I
would prefer not to.� What happens will have you glued to the pages.

�In the Penal Colony� by Franz Kafka

Though strange and disturbing, you�ll still be thinking about Franz Kafka�s �In the
Penal Colony� after you�ve finished. A visitor to a penal colony witnesses an odd
method of execution: a machine which engraves the crime on the prisoner before he
dies. But does the punishment fit the crime?

�Symbols and Signs� by Vladimir Nabokov

Appearing in a 1948 issue of The New Yorker, this story centers on an older couple
who visit their mentally ill son who has just attempted suicide. Returning home,
the father decides to remove the son from the hospital. Interwoven in the story �
which lends itself to multiple interpretations � is the family�s history as Russian
Jews.

�The Veldt� by Ray Bradbury

If you adore Bradbury as much as we do, you�ll love reading this science fiction
about technology gone awry. A family of four lives in a home equipped with advanced
technology, including a simulation room for the children to experience their
wildest fantasies. But when their parents become disturbed by the house�s control
over their children, they must fight back.
What are your favorite short stories?

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