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July 9, 2020 | Fiction

The Dog and I

Andrew Bertaina

My husband is a proficient fighter. He catalogs the inconsistencies between the things I say and things I do. Against this tactic, I have no defense. For he is right, but what he fails to understand is the internal consistency in my inconsistency.

The Dog and I photo
Minor Epiphanies photo

July 9, 2020 | Nonfiction

Minor Epiphanies

Shya Scanlon

ON Drugs, Magic, and the Sanctity of Losing Your Shit

Like any self-respecting Gen-Xer, I spent the bulk of my teenage years doing drugs. I tried all kinds: ecstacy, mda, coke, meth… I even tried

Lady Time photo

July 8, 2020 | Fiction

Lady Time

Grace Campbell

But I didn't feel sick anymore, was the thing. The sweating, capsizing sensation, the kaleidoscope of Muppets I saw square dancing behind my eyelids on that third night when it was legitimately bad, all that had been weeks ago and still everyone brought my mother food. 

in the year 2148, our only nakba photo

July 8, 2020 | Poetry

in the year 2148, our only nakba

Fargo Tbakhi

is the egg yolk, broken when it was meant to be fried, 
the sobbing of a child who’s just found 
that their favorite character does not survive, 

the scraped knee, the store out of cigarettes