Fiction | June 01, 2009
Whatever Happens
Victoria Lancelotta
The full text of this story is not currently available online.
“That was Matthew,” he says. “He’s in jail. He said last night-whoever he was with, somebody new, I didn’t recognize the name-I don’t know. He doesn’t remember much. He said they were drinking and then they were fighting and now he’s in jail.” We’re facing each other across our cluttered kitchen, Joe with the phone and me with a wooden spoon, silent-two people who are rarely silent together. Hot oil splatters the back of my hand, and I move the pan off the heat.
If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.
Want to read more?
Subscribe TodaySEE THE ISSUE
SUGGESTED CONTENT
Fiction
Oct 07 2026
Perkoff Prize Winner: Di Nwanne ‘m
Di Nwanne’m Your brother’s name is Mezie. When your older brothers, Idi and Abuchi, fight over who ate the last piece of cocoyam or whose turn it is to… read more
Fiction
Oct 07 2026
Stump
Stump All around downtown Portland, Oregon, pigeons died and more were born. Every hour. Shell-cracking births in the dank crooks of underpasses; grisly deaths under the wheel of a car… read more
Fiction
Oct 07 2026
Hill Station
Hill Station “Arjun!” cries Betha. Two boys come running out of a doorway at them. Betha is wearing a dusty dress. In her hand is a bottle of oil,… read more