Geoff Wyss
Black and White

Geoff Wyss - Black and White

Geoff Wyss’s book of stories, How, won the Ohio State University Prize in Short Fiction and was published in 2012.… Read more »
Lina Ferreira

Lina Ferreira - Cain

Lina Ferreira is the author of “Drown Sever Sing” and currently works as a visiting assistant professor in The Ohio… Read more »
Gregory Wolos

Gregory Wolos - Diorama

Gregory Wolos’s short fiction has recently appeared or is forthcoming in Post Road, Nashville Review, A-Minor Magazine, JMWW, Yemassee, The… Read more »
Kate Folk

Kate Folk - Shueyville

Kate Folk is from Iowa and now lives in San Francisco. Her stories have appeared in Monkeybicycle, Word Riot, Colorado… Read more »
Curtis Smith
The Culvert

Curtis Smith - The Culvert

Curtis Smith has published over one hundred stories and essays. His most recent books are Beasts and Men (stories, Press… Read more »


Lina Ferreira

Before the invention of murder there were Cain and Abel, and they were both brothers, and they were both black.

There wasn’t a lot of record keeping back then, but it’s not hard to fill in the details.

Abel was better than Cain. Maybe he never forgot to visit his mother on Sundays, and never turned down a good roast. Maybe Cain was a vegetarian, maybe. Details. What is certain is the color of their skin. Black. Black like their mother, black like their father. Black like toucan wings and ollas de barro, and black like the God that made them.

Cain was a little older, maybe. But maybe they were twins. It’s possible. Or maybe Abel was one of those slow-to-come siblings who waits seven years, or twenty five, before stitching up a body inside their mother Eve. And maybe he was easy to kill.

It’s possible they were both only children when it happened. Or when it started. When Cain began drinking and yelling at girls who passed by their house to lift their skirts and show the goods. By age eleven, likely, he had a bottle in his hand and loaded dice in his… Read more »