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Showing results for Nonfiction

December 26, 2019 | Nonfiction

People Like Me Don’t Live A Long Time

Steve Anwyll

Take a percocet at around 4:30pm.

Eat a large weed cookie, drink 1 750ml can of beer and then 3 pints between 6:30pm and 10:00pm.

December 17, 2019 | Nonfiction


D. Nolan Jefferson

You preheat your oven to 425°F before measuring out two and one third cups of self-rising flour into a glass Pyrex bowl. White Lily is the best though it can be hard to find outside of the south and is worth tracking down. It’s milled from a soft winter wheat, and with it your biscuits puff up into soft, light pillows that literally melt in your mouth.

December 12, 2019 | Nonfiction

Instagram Intimacy 

Lyndsay Hall

Every twenty-something in Los Angeles has a comedian friend. In late winter, mine invited me to his show in Culver City with a foolproof pitch: no cover, no drink minimum, nearby parking.

December 10, 2019 | Nonfiction

This Must Be The Place 

Emily O'Neill

There’s no room that’s mine. This thought occurred to me plenty as a child, but it was a fact without any emotion attached. I think about it especially when I watch house hunting shows: what a wish list looks like for people who get to choose where they live on purpose.

December 9, 2019 | Nonfiction

Leg Warmer

Jaya Wagle

The first time a boy accidently touches your leg you are fourteen—

December 5, 2019 | Nonfiction


Hope Henderson

I had anted up already: pics in the too-small bikini top he liked, back arched in his favorite Brazilian-cut bottoms. Did you just take these for me? he asked. By your mid-30s, romance is infinite regress. Or infinite repeat. Or just infinite, like Groundhog Day, or samsara. I don’t reuse sexts! I replied. This is romantic. We understand this is romantic. It is, in fact, romantic to take pictures just for him.


December 3, 2019 | Nonfiction

We Fat Ourselves For Maggots

Lena Crown

One evening when I was fifteen, back in 2009, my ballet teacher arrived at the studio wearing a shit-eating grin. Jeff loved to gossip, and he spoke with a showy Southern twang that made the juice of every secret dribble down our fingers.

November 21, 2019 | Nonfiction

Some Notes on Escape 

Zach Jacobs

When I was about five, I prayed to God as I lay in bed. I prayed for the speed of a cheetah, just like the character I had seen in a cartoon on TV. He could run away from anything.

November 7, 2019 | Nonfiction

The Comet

Dan Higgins

I just remember the room dense with familiar sound, the melancholy howl of the perfectly in-tune saxophones, the electric brilliance of trumpets, a drummer with eight arms; my mother looking over at me, expectantly, as if to say, “This is what you wanted, right? This is making you happy?”


November 6, 2019 | Nonfiction


Christina Kapp

What will be will be. She was a good swimmer, and at least he was getting some exercise. 

October 25, 2019 | Nonfiction


Tom McAllister

Exposing myself to the dumbest ideas and the most hateful weirdos online triggers a chemical reaction that gives me pleasure, or something like it. A hoarder of bad ideas, stacking them all up into wobbly piles that might someday topple and crush me.

October 19, 2019 | Nonfiction

The Sharp Edge of the Crayon

Anna Laird Barto

At last our molars burst forth from the gum and we emerged from the rose-colored womb of our first grade classroom.

October 10, 2019 | Nonfiction


Marlene Olin

A vacation, after all, is just geography.

October 4, 2019 | Nonfiction

Soy La Teacher

Myriam Gurba


October 3, 2019 | Nonfiction


Courtney Cook

Dear              ,
I’m sorry that on your birthday you lost all your money gambling while I made $250.

September 30, 2019 | Nonfiction

500 Words on Immortality 

Dimitry Saïd Chamy

Only 498 words remain. So, let's turn to death.

September 27, 2019 | Nonfiction

The Contest 

Margaret Sherwin

From the time I was seven until I started taking Seroquel, an anti-psychotic, I had this unending feeling of doom.  ‘My go to’, be that of death.

September 25, 2019 | Nonfiction

The Night I Could Have Met the Real Matt Damon

Sarah Broussard Weaver

Our waitress bustles around smiling a strangely huge smile for this boring work night. My boyfriend Nick and I don’t follow football and weren’t invited to any parties, and since most Texans are either holding or attending parties the place is pretty deserted. After the waitress brings our waters she follows her normal script and asks if we want to try a signature TGI Fridays drink, but her eyes keep dancing to the bar behind us.

September 18, 2019 | Nonfiction

The Red Table

Kelly Hevel

I felt as cold and empty as that body lying in that casket lined with fabric smooth and silky white, so different from what usually cradled my grandma’s skin, those soft, oft-washed dresses always topped with a floral apron.

September 16, 2019 | Nonfiction

Coming Home

Suvi Mahonen

05:05 am. My eyes open. A faint pearly blade of light squeezing past the blind. The distant metallic scrape of a moving tram.   

September 16, 2019 | Nonfiction

i fuck who i want with a mutual understanding

nooks krannie

i’ve never attended a wedding and i wasn’t going to start now. my muscles were aching and my jaw was carrying a million bees, terrorizing the sides of my ears and throat. 

September 12, 2019 | Nonfiction


Paige Thomas

There is snow that falls like a snake. It comes from the sky hissing and finds a bush to hide beneath. The leaves on the branches of the River Birch are alive, again, vibrating. They are brown and

September 10, 2019 | Nonfiction


Ryan Matthews

“Well, just be careful you don’t get caught with your pants down at the wrong kinda toilet.”

September 9, 2019 | Nonfiction

Egg Face

Hea-Ream Lee

Sometimes I want to take the industrial strength green Korean loofah, my sandpapery mitten, and just scrub at my face until huge chunks of flesh tear away and roll into brown fleshy noodles and fall to the floor. Afterwards, I won’t be bloody and flayed, all raw nerve endings and hamburger meat, I’ll be smooth as a peeled egg, soft and firm and pliant to the touch.


September 6, 2019 | Nonfiction

The Pastor and Marguerite

Melissa Mesku

My heart is open. I can feel it. It’s never open. This can’t be a coincidence. This—

Recent Books

Dear Nico: the Diary of Elizabeth Ellen (Nov, 2018-Feb, 2020)

Elizabeth Ellen

 "It captures all the doubts, giddiness, confessional streaks, blabbiness, self-alarms, rationalizations, feigned equipoise, and instantly breakable resolves of a person freshly infatuated and likely in love."   -anonymous writer friend


Garielle Lutz

“Lutz’s work is a marvel of the possibilities of language.  Each of her sentences is an intricately crafted thing, deeply complex yet crystalline in its clarity . . . her command of each and every word remains supreme.”     

  --Mira Braneck, The Paris Review Daily


Garielle Lutz is the author of The Complete Gary Lutz, among other books.


Elle Nash

“Transgressive and immediate: you feel these stories shoot through and wrap around you.” 

             - Kyle F. Williams, Full Stop Magazine