“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.”
The summer’s heat was known to bring solids to liquids, ice to water, clots to running blood. On that day in August 1904, the Tsarina felt a turning in her stomach. She gripped her womb, and called to her husband … Read More
You must believe you have sinned. You don’t go to heaven because you’re good. You go to heaven for a man named Jesus. Ask Jesus to forgive you and he will clean your heart. These fervid phrases coming from … Read More
He’s compact, twenty-five, staring at a line of mathematical notation on a whiteboard. He’s in a mostly undecorated, windowless office alone. He rakes his fingers through his hair and rubs the back of his neck. The air is humid and … Read More
Sasha awoke too soon for his liking. He felt as if he’d seen the sun rise but an hour ago, when really the waning effects of wine had enabled him to soundly sleep away the past few. It was near … Read More
“She was looking for something not entirely visible, not entirely tangible, not entirely a glow-in-the-dark beetle whose bum lit up, but some kind of reminder that the strange and ephemeral can manifest as physical, biological.”
“Her swiping was formulaic. As the ratio of inked to bare skin–the share of pierced to unblemished–increased, so did her interest. She wasn’t attracted to them, necessarily. She was interested in the way they altered their bodies to mark moments in their lives they deemed significant.”
“I lay back in the heap of cords, which spawned and propagated from a bud, a navel, the hub of the Mimir, which still ran hot and loud a few minutes into the cooldown protocol.”
At midnight I woke membered to the night with violent blood and pale gashes swimming wild courses through the dark. Some blast from my dream rang shrilly over my ears like frantic veils.
“He looked nice, shy. She didn’t say hello, or smile, because despite her costume—a lace trimmed slip and her grandmother’s pearl choker—she didn’t care much that day.”
