Designs from MC Otani’s website
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True Vision
“Their next destination, they believe, will uncover something staggering: a single place where the tides have converged the bulk of humanity’s discarded waste. They are determined to expose the truth.”
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Yellow Bike
Going everywhere on that little yellow bike. To the base of mountains and looking up at the boundary where snow becomes rain. Retreat just below treeline on account of distant thunder. On the downhill a pebble could mean disaster, but make s-turns: wide and coltish. The chain whines and grates and spits out flecks of…
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An Atheist Guide to Grief
“Life had been returned to her—the one she squeezed every drop of, the one she did and redid in her stories when it was just the two of us in the living room of our first house.”
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Nass Recommends: Masquerade
6:50 pm. Thursday night. July 31. The sun slowly emerges after a day of sultry rainfall. 60 or so people, all draped in formal and cocktail attire — tuxedos, white tie and tails, ball gowns — all matching a strict dress-code of black, white, or silver only. With silk and lace masks covering their…
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I Only Want to Go Camping with People Who Hate Camping
The difficulty of being Into things when your mother is, too.
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“When I come down off this mountain”: concealment in popular queer film
As Roya Reese treks through layers of concealment, the Nassau Weekly is with her every step of the way.
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A Mother’s Mission of Unconditional Love
She lived on the beach off the west coast of Oahu for almost seven years. After a rough childhood and broken home, Kanani made it her life’s purpose to treat the world as her family. And she uses her cultural values to guide the way.
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The Scorpion
(1) My roommate stirs. Her alarm rings at 9 AM, and she hastily turns it off to avoid waking me. My half-waking dreams are all the possible ways the email I sent last night could be answered. They range from “We’re sorry to hear you felt that way” to “Well, it wouldn’t have ended this…
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Do Men Even Use The Bathroom?
Not the way we do. As a refuge, as a moment of silence, as an interlude through mirrors, through cold. As a breathless moment with which to blot on two coats of lipstick and splash cold water on the cheekbones. As an enclosure– as four walls, however flimsy, between which one can perform a range…
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Nass Recommends: Officeparks
This review started as an obligation. It was the least I could do, really, to thank my friend and congratulate them on their poetic debut. Then, when I finally opened my personal copy of the book, sent to my home address after I’d emailed a certain publisher by the name of Will Ballard with a…
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The House Behind Gladewood Street
“I thought about how I used to sleep on Gladewood Street with the passing trains at night. It reminded me of the boy who lived even closer to the tracks than I did, whose name I couldn’t remember.”
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Current Affairs
Ⅰ. LIFE IS ART This piece was supposed to be called: Reading Kundera in Prague. That is because I started this summer with a plan: to read all of Kundera, in order, in Prague. In an homage to the author — who, I later learned, is not the beacon of Czech literature that I…
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