We are working toward converting all of the old into the new. We are not forsaking our past! But... it's going to take time. In the meantime...
the ARCHIVES!
I’ll be the blonde-haired pony and you be the three-toed sloth on LSD. You be “altered.” You be “tripping... more
The chemistry started in biology class. It was first period, and Roo had just gotten her first period. She could smell... more
You are a good-looking man. You know this because people tell you all the time, sometimes out of nowhere. You assume that people... more
After the divorce, my uncle Nicolai became an amateur taxidermist. His first attempts were on roadkill, then the... more
This is the story about how I lost my husband.
Jamie had been in the hospital getting blood work and... more
The Mayor, after several days of grieving, emerged from his hacienda at the hour that was once called lunch. He passed his guards, then slowly—laboriously—carried his voluminous frame through the streets, stopping at the square's one remaining café and ordering a well-cooked steak. The sun glared down from the cloudless sky and illuminated the Mayor, capturing him in full as he spread himself across a stool and held his knife and fork in a rehearsed display of indefatigable hope. There was still meat, he wanted the people to see. There was still a mayor. There was still a town, present and alive in that square.
I arrive at the party and there are about four people there—wait, there are ten more in the back room. Now there are six more at the... more
It is Sunday when the dogs come. The church bells ring and ring and my mother says to my sister like she does every week... more
I know a lot about the way a body grows in bed. I know a lot about sleep, which takes place inside the bed. I know about the dreams that... more
People think we’re in love, like goo-goo eyes and fingering, because we’re always together, Katie Jean and I. We’re always... more
The women were exceedingly beautiful that night. It did not move me to see them, even with their hair tossed back and asses... more
At one a.m. a man loads mannequin parts into the trunk of an orange hatchback.
“I signed up for a thing online,” he... more
What Daddy
Our departure is very alarming to me, still. I still feel caution tape around my heart. But also... more
[The following text and pictures are taken from the personal website of my brother, Austin Hinderliter. It... more
All Paige heard was her watch ticking. She peeled away the cement smell and damp that grew in the old basement where Buddy... more
I can be naked and drunk on the sailboat and only the cat will ever know. She's under a deck chair, pressing her eyes like everything... more
The holes in Dean's shoes let in the rain that streamed in rivers down the sleek asphalt of Ruby Lane. His feet... more
“Did you see what Suzy did when her father tossed her into the air?”
“No, I was looking at Jimmy.”
“She... more
A 400-page collection of poems in fours sections: Nicki Minaj Songs, Bob Dylan Songs, Elliott Smith Songs, and 90s Riot Grrrls Songs.
FOUR NEW ESSAYS BY CHLOE CALDWELL! Plus the original essays that made you fall in love with Chloe!
Jason Phoebe Rusch is a queer writer from the Chicago suburbs. His full-length debut Dualities explores gender and patriarchy from the perspective of a man who was socialized and is currently still read as a woman. He is interested in complication and nuance and messy human failing, his own and that of others.
