Showing results for March, 2016
Californication, Special AWP Edition
Daniel A. Hoyt
Season 6, season finale: Hank Moody attends AWP. Moral tragedy ensues.
Little Death in Five Parts
Juliana Converse
I’m hoarse and feverish. We sing in the streets, “Feelin’ good was good enough for me, hee hee,” but then the breakfast booth only has two seats.
Where in the World Is Lowe Simmons?
Victor F. Glass
48 hours after his mysterious disappearance Lowe uploaded the first of many filter-less photographs to come to his, once deactivated and now reactivated, Instagram account.
Some Horns (Pt. 11)
Nick Francis Potter
[Previously: Part 10 :: Part 9 :: Part 8 :: Part 7 :: Part 6 :: Part 5 :: Part 4 :: Part 3 :: Part 2 :: Part 1]
Last time on...
Milk Poems
Emily Carney
I wear a velvet piece to the therapist’s office and she asks me to close my eyes. We agree to experience an illusion of me dancing...
What We Did Not Lose in the Fire
Ashlie Hyer
But this whole thing is wrong. Your hair is uneven around the edges where you cut it this morning.
The VVitch / Triple 9
Sean Kilpatrick
Black Phillip says monogamy means convincing somebody they like being controlled.
This Is How Our First Real Conversation Will Happen
Gilbert Franco
I was sitting at the edge of her mattress. We barely looked at each other. She would have been in Chemistry if we hadn’t skipped third period. I would have been in English II.
Autocomplete
H.R. Webster
I can’t stop watching teenage boys eat shit at the skate park.
It gives me real pleasure.
Resimulation
John Charles Wolf
Someone else is waiting by the door. I’m brushing dust off my jacket getting over to her, but really looking at my hand, which hasn’t stopped shaking in the past minute. I think I’m excited.
Bronson Alleys
Andrew F Sullivan
An excerpt from WASTE: a novel
Elvira Moon loved bowling. For four straight years, her team, the Blooming Broads, dominated the women’s league, decimating all opponents until Big Tina quit to start her own team, the South Side Splitters, with that bitch Claudia from Couscous or whatever country she’d arrived from in a banana crate.
Lazy Wolf: The Series (pt. 6)
Alex Jiang
[Previously on... Part 5 :: Part 4 :: Part 3 :: Part 2 :: Part 1]
Last time the notorious cats have tricked dogkind who sent its army on a wild goose chase to the cat's old planet, Cot neep,
Lighter Fluid
Eleanor Levine
She gave my dog lighter fluid.
She said my dog didn’t drink it because she put it there.
The dog drank it because it was an accident.
Where I Come From
Miles Preston-Clark
Whenever Amanda and I get into a fight she calls me poor. She tells me that, in my country, they sell nappy-headed dark skin girls like me for 20 silver coins and a healthy goat.
A Recipe for Poached Pear 'Pot' Pie
Mira Gonzalez
½ cup (one stick) of unsalted butter (higher quality butter = better tasting cannabutter)
¼ ounce of weed, VERY finely ground
Divine Worship
Rebekah Lee
I noticed a tall man in front of me with a long umbrella hanging from his arm. He was watching the priest and listening. When we began the preparations for communion, the tall man threw himself onto his knees.
The Man Who Isn't My Father
Jenni Garber
I never call ahead to say I'm in town and on the way over because the front door is always unlocked.
Misery Needs Jokes: A Conversation with Jon-Michael Frank, author of How’s Everything Going? Not Good
Andrew Bomback
The third episode of Louis C.K.’s new series, Horace and Pete, is a nearly hour-long conversation between Horace (Louis C.K.) and his ex-wife, Sarah (Laurie Metcalf). Conversation really isn’t the
They Also Use Tools, and Are Capable of Making Plans
Juliana Gray
Look at those fucking crows, Mona said. She and Dan and I were sitting on our porch, drinking vodka tonics and staring at the view, which was pretty good with the sun going down and the corn in the field between our two houses almost ripe and ready to harvest.
Little Girls
Zhanna Slor
It’s 2006, I’m nineteen, and I have a part-time job with my uncle engraving portraits into tombstones.
My Old Friend Lou
Milton P. Ehrlich
Every time I walk to the library
I pass my old friend’s house
who doesn’t live there,
or anywhere anymore.
Between the Lines
Denise Milstein
He was riding down the street like you, contramano, and the image came of you on your bike, and I wished for the dream of the flying bicycle to return, the one where I find you again.