For the short story reader. Updated every Monday.

The Short Form

“Look, Ma, I'm Breathing”

Suzanne Rivecca


“Catholic?” Isabel blurted out. Then inwardly she swore at herself: What compelled her to ask this question every time someone mentioned having a big family, as if she herself hadn’t been rasied Catholic—traditionalist, Vatican II—rejecting Catholic, at that? As if her own parents, an almost-priest and an almost-nun who believed their union had been divinely engineered by Saint Brigid, hadn’t practiced birth control. She remembered putting away the laundry one day and finding condoms in her dad’s sock drawer. Had she put that in the book? She hadn’t.