The River

Welcome to Summer Stories, The Spokesman-Review's annual short fiction series. Now in its fourth year, Summer Stories brings works by some of the region's best writers to the pages of The Spokesman-Review for 10 weeks. After trips to the fair, the lake and the woods, Summer Stories this year goes to the River.

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Latest Stories

Before You Blow

By Jess Walter

This was the summer you drank beer with Joey and did stupid stuff in the Spokane River. The summer of 1981 – you cliff-jumped in Post Falls and body-surfed the Flora rapids and rafted the Bowl and Pitcher, all drunk – like you were making a safety …
A Girl Who Floats Rivers

By Rachel Toor

When she was 8 years old, Autumn, who’d only ever been called Timmie, told her mother that she had pretty much given up on ever having a heteronormative relationship, though not exactly in those words.

“Mama,” she said. “You know how there are girls that wear dresses …
Low Tide

By Stephanie Oakes

People throw all kinds of things in the river.

That’s what Saul used to tell me. Back in our parents’ day, people would use the river for a dump. Anything unusable, unwanted, un-wished for, thrown with a pitcher’s form, all rotator cuff and desire, into the surging …
The Tale of Little Garrett and the Bees

By Thom Caraway

Little Garrett was so surprised he turned in a circle three times before he saw the bee. He held it in the palm of his hand. ... Little Garrett put his face down to the bee, its abdomen pumping slowly, fine hairs rippling across its tiny body.
May I Remind You of My Season Pass to Water Wasteland

By Chelsea Martin

What is a day if not an opportunity? An opportunity to make a change in the world. An opportunity for greatness. To step outside of what is expected of you. Let the day sweep you off your feet, take you away, propel you forward, maybe around in …
‘Flow’

By Asa Maria Bradley

“We’ll follow the river for the first bit.” Jessie grinned, flashing dimples Julie used to think were adorable.

“Watch the road.” She closed her eyes and leaned against the window. She couldn’t see his frown, but his annoyance turned the air in the truck chilly against …
‘Something Follows’

By Ben Cartwright

Simmons loved to run the river trail past what was normal – season, time of day, duration. If a normal person said the end of October was about the limit for trail weather, she bought ice cleats and made sure to run a 10k in January, shaving …
‘White River’

By Paul Lindholdt

You got anything alongside a river? At Ken’s question Sheila ceased a beat, her shrill charm upended. Her clients in Jet City didn’t care to live anywhere near the White River, its flotsam and flooding hazards, its gravel gnashing like bad teeth.

Sheila found her voice and …
The Wet Edge of the River

By Kris Dinnison

The fish was dead. Tara knew it even before she poked at its limp body, which was draped across the river rocks like a discarded sock. When she pressed the stick against the fish’s belly, tiny insects rose in a cloud and then fell again onto the …
The River: All Signs Dark

By Shawn Vestal

When the power went out, Francis had no one to ask for help. No friendly basement to sleep in. No calls came in checking to see if he and the kids were all right. The soccer league had been their lives – they were a Shark family, …