Prose
The Pretender
Disney is something like the second-largest consumer of explosives in the United States, behind our own U.S. military. We’re about to see some fireworks.
Dissipate
I walked the dog when she was at work. She was a pilot. Well, an astronaut actually. An alternate for an alternate. She flew to Florida or Texas every few weeks for conditioning, in case a bunch of astronauts got the flu...
Vietnamese-Americans in the VHS Era
As I grew taller and my attention span longer, I graduated to watching full-length Disney movies, including Sleeping Beauty (which terrified me), Snow White (which also terrified me), and Cinderella (which bored me)...
In This Story I am the Main Character
How does pleasure move if it isn’t in swell or burst? My boyfriend says it makes him feel bad when I can’t keep my pinching fingers away from what is swollen in him, but to that I say: How can you keep a bump unpunctured and still be happy being who you are?
Kerouac’s Junk Mail, Merrill’s Ouija Board: Living with Literary Ghosts
Caitlin Doyle reconciles lessons from two residences at the homes of two drastically different writers...
The Lawyer’s Retreat
Out here, on this retreat, that distance has decreased to an uncomfortable proximity. We have no collective task to keep us on the rails. We have nothing to cue us our lines. As a result, each of us is gradually being revealed.
Death Rolls and Gator Holes
He tried to jerk free of the gator’s mouth and when that did not work, he attempted to actually pull his hand off his arm … he did not want to be dragged into the pond and run the chance of a gator roll.
Homecoming
Peanut leaned on a fence, panting, watching Ransom walk away under the staggered streetlights. The pain in his head was crystallizing, it shimmered and glinted. White facets strobed behind his eyes. He slipped between the bars of the gated construction area and meandered along a row of new homes.
The Fish
We break up a piece of bread and place the crumbs in each bowl. “They’ll jump out of those bowls trying to grab that bread. I hope you saved us enough slices of bread for your lunches tomorrow.” She sighs heavily, then stands on a chair and starts scrounging around in the cupboards. “Here, take this old pickle jar. We need those bowls for breakfast. What kind of people think giving kids a fish is a prize? Ain’t no prize for me.”