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Freshly minted from a small, inconsequential college of liberal arts, Stuart Rosenstein surprised his parents, his longtime girlfriend, and even himself when he decided neither to apply to graduate school nor to seek his fortune at an insurance agency or stock brokerage, but instead to accept his uncle’s offer to assume ownership of the uncle’s retail appliance business, a ramshackle enterprise cemented in an unfashi

His skin glowed the color of mocha cappuccino, his muscles tapered into drawn bows and steely arrows, and his long, flowing locks took flight and landed in rhythmic accompaniment to his pounding legs and buttocks. “Fergus Falls,” he whispered. The woman, a strawberry blonde, writhed somewhere underneath him. She was visible only in splotches of feet, hair, and hands, the latter clasped against the middle

On a cold morning in January, in a year that most Fergus Fallsians had assumed lay only in the distant future, Mayor Mingalone sequestered himself in his sumptuous, mahogany-paneled office, where diligently he attempted to ignore the electronic sign blaring his city’s name through the window and instead to concentrate on the question at hand, which was whether or not to run for another four-year term. |||Fergus Falls

Arnold and Mary: A Love Story Arnold Knutson met his wife, the former Mary O’Boyle, at the Palmer House Hotel of Chicago, Illinois, on a hot August evening of the year Nineteen-hundred and twenty-two. He was a guest of the hotel, in town to convince the Chicago Grain Exchange to include mushroom futures among its tradable commodities. She was the waitress serving him in the hotel dining room. “They’re too

The quietness of the voices woke me up. Not that Mom and Dad yell a lot, Not nearly like the Worzowskis across the street, But quietness is even worse. That’s when you know something serious is going on. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Kathy snored in her bed across the room. The Love Is kids smiled down at her from their poster. Above me, Peter Frampton smiled from his. Oh Peter, I thought, what’s wrong? I w