“Hornets are trying to live too, making their nests. Humans have inside them envy and cruelty and pride and so on and hornets, well, they have a bit of poison.”

“Was she out there somewhere, and what was she doing? And how had she survived the same ordeal as me?”

“Neither the strange currents of love nor water on the verge of thirst — nothing in this world can compare to the pleasure offered by observing this flower.”

A poem.

“I never expected that tai chi sword would become a special type of physical therapy for me.”

“The coat fit him like a glove. The vendor spun him around, and the flared skirt fluttered outward.”

“Whenever he sees the phone, he thinks about calling his mother.”

“It was time. I spotted him on the terrace, made my approach, took away his glass, and stubbed out his cigarette.”

“Men are stupid. They are so stupid, they will believe this. Everyone will hear about us. And, if you play your part well, Mary, you might even become rich.”

“So that’s what I call myself when I’m alone, the name Charo wrote in lip liner at the end of the letters she sent to Ernesto, my husband. Excuse me, my ex-husband.”

A poem.

Recommendations from Dial contributors.

“This child isn’t mine, but he won’t let me go.”

Issue 19: Fiction