White Iverson and I shoot hoops in the back of our high school where we met way before White Iverson became White Iverson and grew relatively rich and famous, b...
I went to Ace Hardware for one
small screw and left with a whole new
understanding of quantum physics.
The guy in the red vest said take your time.
I kept c...
It was my idea to crack open the last bottle of tequila, the one with no label on it, just the word tequila scrawled across it in red Sharpie. A survivor from s...
“Excuse me, sir.” The man in pink hoodie approached me when I stepped out of the subway. His eyes got greener and creepier up close, and he looked shorter than ...
As a kid, I looked after an ant colony that smelled like crocodiles. They started each day by filing in from one end of the circuit and called it a night after ...
Sarp Sozdinler is a writer from Philadelphia and Amsterdam. His work has been published in Electric Literature, Kenyon Review, Wigleaf, Flash Frog, HAD, Hobart, X-R-A-Y, and Pithead Chapel. His stories have been selected as a finalist for the Los Angeles Review Short Fiction Prize and the Passages North Waasnode Short Fiction Prize. He edits the online journal The Bulb Region.