It’s terrible, you see they’ve started using paper bags at the supermarket. Brown paper bags. Well it didn’t take me long to figure out that this presented an unprecedented opportunity. ...
As a teen, I was obsessed with my knickers, whether to allow boys into them and getting them in a twist. My mother instilled in me the importance of ensuring ...
She had been collecting supplies for some time: fabric, yarn, scissors, and glue. Strong glue. She needed this to hold together.
All the zines were printed at Lehman Brothers. All the zines were printed at Goldman Sachs. All the zines were printed at Merrill Lynch.
In March, the snow melted, and the lake thawed, and we had to watch as these bloated bodies full of holes and pond scum all rose up from where the ...
She watches the pond from the front of the house. Upstairs. Her bedroom. In a pause between painting, where her brush wilts in the bottom of a green glass (a ...
Theo II’s ghost haunts me most nights, ever since I found him hanging in the stables, an ending that no doubt hastened the death of my grandfather—Sir Theo—a week later. ...
In this short piece, Brazilian novelist and short-story writer, Carol Bensimon, posits the life of a pool man after the virus has wrecked the tourism industry and the rich have ...
I was born at 6:04 p.m. on the 3rd day of the Moon’s skulking journey across the skylands. She is a child of Krithika, the temple priest tells my mother, ...
As I’d begun to do lately, get out paper, my stack of comics from under the bed. I start drawing.
Jittery, a twiddling, nerve-pulling runway, touch-down, to pencil scratching, scratching, then, ...
Papa’s blood runs hot, a carryover from the Sicilian sun, Mama says. Temperatures rise, and storms brew, feeding off the latent heat. The fury of God in man. Our lot ...
I was sitting in the rail station waiting for the 10:30 to London when a mother with two small children sat beside me, her daughter wedged between us. The girl ...
He licks her big toe, glides his tongue across the arch of her foot, softens the cracked and toughened skin of her heel with warm saliva, and then presses his ...
The way the two women walk six feet apart, one on the sidewalk and the other in the empty street = the way the body and the soul walk together ...
All that winter we read Hannah Arendt, we read Men in Dark Times.
There’s this bizarro technique my doctor’s urging. It’s got a bunch of scientific terms that just sound to me like whatever whatever and no fucking way this is going to ...
Inevitably, implacably, the rain fell, its blanket mass a monsoon vehicle that swept across Ypres. It had been ceaseless for months, so much so, that you could not imagine a ...
After eight weeks at home, my daughter alternated between lethargy and irritability. Between sleeping and meltdowns, explosions of preadolescent rage that leveled the living room, kitchen, and shared bedroom of ...
It’s the kind of intimacy usually shared by people who are fucking. Not mother and daughter. That thought made her smile when she decided to make this garden their place: ...
My brother and I are surgeons. We spend our days in the woods by our home, slicing the limbs from eighty-year-old relics, listening to the sounds of splitting wood and ...
