Artificial Selection by RS Paulette

He crumpled like an empty soda can into the seat marked ‘exit,’ with the Pacific Ocean stretched out far below the window as a bruised, black desert. He had only half paid attention to the safety notices on the instruction card jutting from the seat pocket in front of...

Sinker by R.S. Paulette

I WAS FOURTEEN when my father first took me fishing. Part of a father-daughter, weekend-visitation thing that, to be quite honest, bothered me. See, my father was alien to me, with his barrel chest and his big game magazines spread across his coffee table. He was the...

These Are The Fables by RS Paulette

TO SAY THAT I wasn’t attracted to the girl—that I didn’t harbor any carnal feelings toward her—would be a lie. To tell this story right requires a certain amount of honesty that I feel the above confession satisfies. There are expectations one has when...