Podcasts

Fiction

She comes early, forcing you to reschedule meetings from the car as Alan drives, white-knuckled. You don’t mind—sending contract notes while in labor is the sort of story the partners will tell for years. Delivery is an athletic event, but you understand those. You ran cross-country in college, before law school took over. You understand pain, how to bear down and force your body into submission. And then it’s over. They put her in your arms, swaddled and squalling, and she is exactly as you imagined.

In Jan. 2023 (Issue 124)

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- Narrated by:
  
  Judy Young
- Duration:
  
  48:31
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Fiction

Wallers

by Mari Ness

Author spotlight

The day her mother brought Mr. Nelson home, Martha faded into the wallpaper. It seemed the safest thing to do. Martha had never met Mr. Nelson, but she had met the others, and she knew what they could do to her. Had done to her. And her mother. It was possible that this one was different, but Martha did not want to take that chance. “Martha?” called out her mother. She was clinging to Mr. Nelson’s arm, Martha saw, and swaying a little. Just as she had with the others. “Martha?”

In Dec. 2022 (Issue 123)

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- Narrated by:
  
  Judy Young
- Duration:
  
  20:22
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Fiction

Break the Skin If You Have To

by Emma Osborne, Jess Essey, and Cadwell Turnbull

Author spotlight

The base of my skull buzzes as I pick up some bleach and a new scouring pad from the market. I’ve been away from my house for too long. When I get back, I must remember to clean the oven, clean the stovetop, clean the sink. In the checkout queue, I drop my basket onto the counter, and then I see her again. The new girl. So many have come and gone through the years that I barely remember them. Their polite gazes always slip off of me when I come through their checkouts.

Australian Shadows Awards finalist

In Dec. 2022 (Issue 123)

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- Narrated by:
  
  Janina Edwards
- Duration:
  
  30:26
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Fiction

Only When You Laugh

by Amanda Song

Author spotlight

Twenty-four hours to go. The Ultus Theater was all lit up, the marquee emblazoned with his name, glowing in the haze of the heavy rain. Laffing Farm Final Show: Mitch Williams! He chuckled to himself. Mitch, Mitch, born in a ditch . . . The last time he was outside in a downpour was ten years ago, that night by the lake after his treatment. He had been jittery with withdrawal, teeth chattering in his head, as loud as the waves crashing against the shore. Look at him now. 2,800 seats, sold out.

In Nov. 2022 (Issue 122)

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- Narrated by:
  
  Stefan Rudnicki
- Duration:
  
  27:20
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Fiction

Devil Take Me

by Gordon B. White

Author spotlight

The caveat is that I’m going to lie to you. That’s how confessions work, isn’t it? There are those things that even though we want to confess, we can’t confront, and so we talk around. Lying isn’t even second nature; it’s our primary condition. The best I can do is tell you the truth about when I’ve lied. Let’s start at the beginning. I come from a deep and worn-out notch on the Bible Belt, the only child of Peter and Trudy Cadigan. Well, no. You’d need only look at the graves to know that’s not entirely true.

In Nov. 2022 (Issue 122)

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- Narrated by:
  
  Stefan Rudnicki
- Duration:
  
  42:59
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Fiction

The Ghost Eaters

by Spencer Ellsworth

Author spotlight

The Man had come and gone, other Someones too, and all the lessers, but Barley still guarded the House. He still patrolled, passing right through the gate instead of getting caught under the slats, still lifted his nose and trotted the fence line every morning, though he could no longer smell the asphalt baking in the heat or rabbits in the hedges. At sundown he returned to his grave and lifted his leg even though he hadn’t urinated since the Man put his body in a cardboard box and dropped it into foot-deep earth.

In Oct. 2022 (Issue 121)

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- Narrated by:
  
  Stefan Rudnicki
- Duration:
  
  30:34
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Fiction

Sharp Things, Killing Things

by A.C. Wise

Author spotlight

We saw the first billboard while driving along Lake Road. We’d driven the road a hundred times before, because it was the only road out of town that went anywhere worth going, and there was fuck-all to do in town except get drunk, get stoned, and get in trouble. Lake Road let us go ice fishing in the winter. Lake Road let us go camping in the summer. Lake Road let us drive and pretend like we would keep going, like one day we would get out for good.

In Oct. 2022 (Issue 121)

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- Narrated by:
  
  John Allen Nelson
- Duration:
  
  37:13
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Fiction

Concerning the Upstairs Bathroom

by Kiera Lesley

Author spotlight

Congratulations on the purchase of your new home! I’m sorry to inform you I was not very upfront with the terms of sale and would feel guilty if I didn’t leave at least this letter in forewarning. You might have wondered why it was listed so cheaply or why, beyond a lawyer’s details, there wasn’t a name on the seller’s side of the contract. You might have dismissed these anomalies because the patio is so nice (the jasmine over the pergola smells lovely in spring).

In Sep. 2022 (Issue 120)

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- Narrated by:
  
  Stefan Rudnicki
- Duration:
  
  18:21
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Fiction

The Gold Coin

by Clara Madrigano

Author spotlight

She remembered the day Sophie’s grandmother told her about the gold coin. The gold coin existed only if you were paying attention. It existed only during certain times of the day. Above all, it existed only in Mrs. Meecham’s living room, next to the sofa covered with quilts, near the stairs that would lead you to the rooms above. On one of the walls in the living room, there was a small stained-glass window forming the image of a benevolent lady sitting by a garden.

In Sep. 2022 (Issue 120)

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- Narrated by:
  
  Roxanne Hernandez
- Duration:
  
  54:31
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Fiction

The Arm Ouroboros

by Adam-Troy Castro

Author spotlight

I take the hammer in my right hand and raise it up over my head to bring down, screaming, against the left hand I have placed flat on the tabletop. My knuckles do not break. My skin does not tear. I do not scream in agony. Instead, my left hand flattens like soft rubber, the imprint of the hammer’s head clearly visible in what is supposed to be human flesh. The sight is worse than any pain could possibly be.

In Aug. 2022 (Issue 119)