Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Psyche.
The Gizmo That Worked
Jimmy Bartlett considered Dr. Davis’s words. He had doubts. It wasn’t that Jimmy had never heard the term “sleep apnea” before, but he was certain he did not have such a condition. He wasn’t obese. Sure had a few extra pounds, maybe 10 tops, but he wasn’t what he thought of as fat. He was sure only those who struggled with weight issues had sleep apnea. He never had trouble breathing, another condition that he had heard leads to sleep apnea. He wasn’t sure what to say and for a moment he didn’t think Dr. Davis was would say anything at all. So he just stared and tried to ignore how awkward he felt.
By Tom Stasio5 years ago in Psyche
Help Wanted
“I know what you’re up to,” Todd confronted her. “Don’t think you can fool me.” Rachel smiled and looked up at her co-worker from where she bent over her little black book. “Couldn’t fool you if I tried,” she said. “But just so we’re clear, how am I trying to fool you?”
By Stephanie Messer5 years ago in Psyche
Getting out of Forgottensville, West Virginia.
12th July Blood splattered on the sink below me. Hunched over, wheezing. More coughing. more blood. And rest, my lungs deserve it. I took a step back, stumbling as I lowered myself, resting my back against the bathtub’s wall.
By George Devo5 years ago in Psyche
Balancing Self-Love with the Desire for Self-Improvement in 2021
New Year, New Lockdown The beginning of a new year brings with it the promise of a fresh start. A chance to reflect on our shortcomings, diagnose any weaknesses in our character, and set up new goals and habits for the year ahead. Of course there is no real reason why January is a better moment to try and do this than any other time of the year. But the turning over of a new calendar seems to bring with it the expectation that things can and will change.
By Charlotte Stanbridge5 years ago in Psyche
A Souls Desire
I remember the day when 20,000 pieces of paper fell from the clouds with the grace of crisp fresh snow. Before then, the only type of magic I believed in came from a pen’s first glide across a new ivory sheet of paper. Yet there I sat with a Moleskine journal full of mistake-marked pages in my left hand and a fresh 100 dollar bill in my right. The sound of shuffling papers tantalized my ears as the hum of the city ceased to an awe-stricken buzz. As the world around me rubbed its eyes with disbelief, I realized I couldn’t tell who was lying: the sky or the state of my mind.
By Lauren Portee5 years ago in Psyche
Black=What?
When strange things happen to me in broad daylight– like noticing an exploded bracelet on the ground and (just like a fairy tale) I eagerly stoop to gather seed pearls scattered on the parking lot pavement, I can sense the wobbly dream world is close. And when later on the same walk, I find a small black notebook next to the abandoned tennis court on the way to the woods, there is again, this swelling of peculiar presence. Mind and body suddenly function as metaphor – I am a two-way mirror bridge. The outer world aligns so surprisingly and precisely with my internal narrative that it feels like the pleasure of rhyme followed all the way back to silence. Or the voice of a bell pulsing into inaudible vibration: here is a brief chance to notice the flavor of the void – vast, sparkling possibility! My own tongue is the permission slip, and it seems completely obvious my whole life has been a giant game of hide and seek. This is how I feel when I flip it open.
By Kathleen Ivanoff5 years ago in Psyche
