February 25, 2020 | Fiction
Reunion at the Christian Movie Theatre
Jack Vening
The Christian Movie Theatre is mainly for fans of poorly translated morality tales, the violent ends of saints and so forth.
February 24, 2020 | Fiction
One Of Those Boys
Heather Domenicis
Despite your better judgement, you click on his profile and then on the most recent post: a picture of him smiling on a white slope with his arm wrapped around a remarkably average, yet still somehow traditionally hot (not pretty, just hot) snow bunny.
My First Apartment
Emma Brewer
The next day, I woke first and made French toast. I had a teenaged hangover, buzzing and giddy.
From the Sublime to the Hilarious: On Damascus Gate by Robert Stone (part 3)
Madison Smartt Bell
The story of religious mania and the story of political violence look very likely to converge on each other. Having consciously elected the first, Lucas keeps being drawn, sometimes unwillingly, sometimes unwittingly, toward the other. Both feature his new inamorata, Sonia Barnes.
Anxiety Attack
Harrison Kim
I count the number of murderers in the class.
Being A Vengeful God for Minimum Wage
Ashton Carlile
There was something that she wished to start, and when she started it, she figured, her life would take on new meaning. But in this moment in time, she ate breakfast bars all hours of the day and worried about money.
THREE POEMS
Savannah DiGregorio
swang
at night i sleep next to you, your skin balmy course. like grinded down sweetgum made smooth in the sweat of the mississippi delta summer. you tear and bend at my will. your spine disjoints
A Glassel Bridge
Katbug
There is a universe of existence we have no words for, and maybe that is why we sequester ourselves in naturally quarantined cities: fear of the unknown and unintelligible.
On the Morning of
Kara Moskowitz
Nick your shin shaving, stare idly at the blood coursing down your foot and down the drain, and maybe this is how you do it, empty out all your insides until your shapeless skin is all that’s left.
The Button
Zoe Messinger
I wanted to be “that girl,” but my new high-waisted pants from the Marais were already unbuttoned once.
three poems
Abigail Stallings
EMOTION CASINO
welcome to your life
your face changes as you watch
outside the frame
among the distractions
you are right now
a body prone to emotion
Google Maps
attraction
you never
My First Stuffed Animal: Leopard
Nicholas A. White
During our first few years together, Leopard went through the washing machine after I peed on him, many times.
From the Sublime to the Hilarious: On Damascus Gate by Robert Stone (part 2)
Madison Smartt Bell
If Lucas is the most obvious Bob Stone avatar in Damascus Gate, Adam De Kuff might also be a contender, sharing with his author an improperly managed mental illness (it’s made very plain that De Kuff has stopped taking his prescribed bipolar meds a long while back)
Winter’s Children
Mark Benedict
Brian was psyched too. Not about her requests—Tom Waits was more his groove—but about where things seemed to be headed.
Textual joy
Stevie Belchak
I render a coin
for something
I forgot
the sky
scratching itself
into decency
when I
wake up
always rattling
around
in my skin
a new aesthetic
I
About a Million Joans
Gabe Montesanti
“How do I know if it’s right?” I wrote. “How did you know?” “I just knew,” she texted back.
A Difficult Trek with My Daughter
Rasheena Fountain
I ain’t supposed to know about these woods. But I did know the coyotes.
The Red Ones Come From Taillights
Erin Lyndal Martin
To be naked on the beach after a storm is something special—the salt and the petrichor and the hum of being unsettled that maybe the torrential rains caused damage, that maybe there were nearby ships that will never make it to harbor.
My First CD: Dr. Dre's The Chronic
Phillip Scott Mandel
My Magic cards were the coolest thing about me.
From the Sublime to the Hilarious: On Damascus Gate by Robert Stone (part 1)
Madison Smartt Bell
Stone had two modes of handwriting: one a gnarly cursive he used to talk to himself and the other block capitals, more easily legible. On a scrap of torn paper in a crate of Damascus Gate research material is a draft of a self-mocking doggerel poem...
Reflection
Molly Gabriel
Violet and I sit in her bed a while and talk. She shows me how to unhook and snake a bra through a sleeve.
Protection
Diana Whitney
I could not imagine the dark well of her grief. I wanted to pretend it had nothing to do with me. But I felt compelled to bear witness somehow.




