I love combing Lisette's hair in the quad. It's a thing we do every day after lunch. She lies on her back on one of the concrete tables, bends her knees, and lets them fall to the side, giving me a clear view of her beautiful forest of auburn curls. I do it nice and slow, using the soft brush and then the long-handled comb, then start over. No point to it really, she already brushes her hair every morning (actually, one of the other girls in her suite does it, it being easier

The radiator is fixed but it needs a new thermostat which won’t come in until tomorrow. That’s ok -- I want to stay in this town until I find out more about Sukie, the girl who is always naked. I wait until just before school is out before walking into town. I sit on the same bench, at the same time. Again, the school bus empties with middle-school kids. Again, some high school kids walk by. But no Sukie, nor any of her friends (I think). Half an hour goes by and still,

On this spring evening, around the dorms at Campbell - Frank College, the scent of newly risen flowers and fertile, moist earth mingled in the air with young voices from the open windows. From Pilgrim Hall, Rankin Hall, and the other dorms, students could be heard chatting, laughing, sometimes singing, music from CD’s playing here and there. Mid-terms over, finals a long way away, an easy, carefree season. In Pilgrim Hall, Room 207, Jeanette and Latosha, sociolo

“I’m not sure if what you ask is possible,” Principal Huo said. He was in his office, speaking to Mr. Qinghu, Instructor of Mathematics. “It’s only for the boy’s benefit,” Mr. Qinghu said. “The loss of concentration for the -- what --” “I believe the penumbra has been timed as averaging at two minutes, with an umbra of fifteen seconds.” “He can’t afford to be out of touch for that long, every class,” Mr. Qinghu said. “It doesn’t seem to present a problem in the other su

“Unnh! You’re putting too much grit into these -- things!” Patty says, her toes flexing against the rough concrete rail as she raises herself up. “It’s the same formula as always,” Freddy says. They’re talking softly so that the crowd around them, watching from behind the little fence, can’t hear. ​ “I feel like I’m -- shitting out -- unnhh! -- a porcupine.” ​​ “You exaggerate.” ​​ Patty exhales and lifts her butt off the top of the prong of

The nude prisoner, sound sleeper that she had come to be, was nonetheless awakened by the routine 6:15 a.m. clanking of the old-fashioned key. She blinked her eyes and turned on the rough wooden bench. It was the Assistant Warden, as always, with the guard for her wing. The guards at this women’s prison farm were all female, but the officials were male. “Good morning, Towelewska,” he said, in a heavily accented attempt at her native Polish. By habit and by protocol, the