A woman at the passage between subway cars held the door open and screamed into the void. The rest of us kept our eyes to ourselves, acutely aware of her every ...
Sterile room, fluorescent lights, it’s freezing too. Agent Fields across the table, a face you wanna punch. Tell me about Zahid, he says.
We met on Lan Kwai ...
On break, fucking finally.
Light another one of god’s cigarettes—Camel Turkish Royal.
See some fuckin’ walkie talkie looking thing in the maintenance breakr...
In my heart—for lack of a better word—I ducked. Head down, I slipped past the pharmacy, skirted the cafe, and swung behind a display counter illuminating, of a...
Alessandro DiFrancesco, despite their name, is almost painfully American. When they read a character of Kurt Vonnegut’s description of the failed sci-fi author ...
The pragmatic businessman is always composed: abundant hair fixed in a quaff, gym-fit form clothed in cognac oxfords and a charcoal puppytooth suit, decisions m...
The sky is bleeding rain. I am on 42nd Street and I cannot tell if I am wet or just cold. The sun is MIA.
Across from me is this mime making O shapes with hi...
Lately I’ve been burning down highways blindfolded. There are only three ways out of town: east, west, south. He sits in the passenger seat and keeps ...
The Holy Snail has been making waves again. Though to be fair, when has it ever not? One might be excused for thinking this creature’s exalted name has somethin...
Waiting for the 6 train at Union Square, normally a hurricane of activity, dead at four in the morning. Cory worked the night shift at The Inn in Gramercy Park,...
Inspired by an exercise her therapist gave her, Thea goes to estate sales to buy fine china to smash. Small plates rimmed in gold, porcelain tea cups once gripp...
So much noise buffeting around in here I can’t make sense of it. I focus on the crackling paper of my cigarette. Through all the rest I can still hear that, but...
God gave me my money.
—John D. Rockefeller
My luck with money reached its end at the Field Museum. Joan covered my entry fee, swore she didn’t mind....
The specialest movie was one we’d watch during sleepovers— we being all the kids who’d ditch our homes every night to be in each other’s, a dozen of us, in four...
UW-Parkside was a small school in the middle of somewhere. And somewhere was nowhere else other than Kenosha. It’s a rusty place; it’s grey and cheese curds and...
PERSONAL LOG: OCTOBER 3, 2038 – 11:13 P.M.
The temperature on the thermometer outside reads 22 degrees, which is unusually cold compared to autumn temperatur...
This fucking digital asshole had No Good by Lynch Mob absolutely screaming through the 6.5” door speakers—full volume. I was too drunk to drive. But anyways, th...
It was Covid and I was sick again. 5 years ago, I was battling a nasty case of psychosis. My family and I had moved into a split level in Walworth County Wiscon...
“Jailbirds don't fly, and they don't get high, and they don't drink icy cold Budweiser on a hot summer day.”
“Fuck you John. This shit sucks. Getting up at t...
My porch has folding chairs. People sit in them. There’s a plastic table—guests put drinks on it. Lights hang from the ceiling—an Amazon purchase. The smell of ...
We couldn’t let panic stop us now. I was out of pills and only had 12 rounds of .357 Magnum. We came here for one thing. One simple fucking thing. Unfortunately...
She watches the movie from bed. It’s modern. It’s in technicolor, the way they used to be, and it’s one about a man who loves jazz and a woman who longs to be a...
As soon as I hold the sword in my hands, I feel stronger than the jacked up Ford F150 that that dickhead Jasper parks up on his lawn, so strong that I swing the...
This morning’s run to the ATM was harrowing. I dipped into savings! Seventh time this month. I tell Alicia all this in the middle of my second mojito.
“Look,...
It was 10 a.m. on a Tuesday. I was taking my wife to work. She worked at the mall at the time, and she was running late. As we turned the corner, smoke curled i...
His bedroom is a low slanting attic space but after four years I’m used to the yellowed popcorn plaster ceiling looming above as he lingers over my semi-soft-fo...
(Los Angeles, Sept. 5, AP) Paul Vincent Carlisle, known to millions as “The Dancing Werewolf,” died this morning at his home in Malibu. He was 79. The exact ...