
Last Christmas Eve, John and I were closing servers. After we finished, we left the restaurant in search of a downtown Pittsburgh bar still open past eleven. We found one in old Chinatown, but when we walked in there were no patrons. The barmaid anxiously washed pint glasses. The waning moments of the Hawai’i Bowl…

Kay read the notice announcing the wake in the morning paper, while drinking a very bitter coffee. The deceased was known to her by name only, but it was an old and familiar name, attached to an aristocratic line that Kay respected. A fever hospital in her small hometown, in fact, shared the name. She…

An excerpt from ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE, a graphic memoir.

A Notable Essay in Best American Essays 2016.

“I suicide, I suicide!” he cried out, en pointe, as if strung up by an invisible rope lashed to a rafter in the heaven of the homeless shelter. His hands collared his strangulated neck, a frill of starched fingers…