Baby Hitler was getting bored. Mother had been away longer than usual. He had already played with the rattle... more
Baby Hitler giggles and pulls another leg off the spider. Just three legs this time. He pulled them... more
Baby Hitler woke up angry. He sat up. They would be coming for him again. Who, he did not know.... more
The Professional felt the rush of consciousness, the quick awakening that could only mean another person with questions. Another intransigent... more
Jake from State Farm hangs up the phone and hustles to the bathroom.
Last year, we ran a series of "Commercial Fiction"s by Dave Housley, which were collected into a book. One such piece in the series... more
A new email dings into his box and Miller cringes. Somehow he knows it’s from her, something about the ding – it is insistent, urgent, as... more
Excerpt from Centers for Disease Control: Obesity in Central Florida, February 2019.
Wes Urban, 32 years of age, 298 lbs.
We... more
The man woke up and walked to the bathroom. He relieved his bladder and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked at the clock. 6:25. He... more
We pull into the campground and it’s just like I imagined it would be: chaparral scrub receding to oaks and firs as we move up into... more
Guildenstern flips the coin and holds it out for Rosencrantz to see.
“Heads,” Rosencrantz says. “Again heads.” He turns around. “So... more
Captain’s Log: Captain Richard L. Hiltonshire, HMS Evoque, North Carolina Coast. May 12, 1801
The Coast is in sight. America, I... more
Burns looks out toward the road. He puts a hand up to the glass and shakes his head. “I can’t believe this,” he says, his breath fogging the... more
Cynthia wakes to coffee smell and the sounds of William getting breakfast ready for the kids. She closes her eyes and for a moment, it is as... more
You are not the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time in the evening. But here you are, and you cannot... more
Derek barely slows down at intersections. Not anymore. Not since we got that card reader and “set out toward the... more
The first thing was, everybody’s voices changed. Not changed deeper, like puberty. This was changing back: they went high, squeaky, like we... more
We were taking shots at the bar before the bar, pre-gaming, game-facing. We did a round of jaeger bombs and Fixer knocked some dap and went outside for a smoke.
The real cowboy wears a fishing cap and one of those vests you associate with photographers, only his isn't stuffed with film or lenses or... more
Here is what I know. They wear tights. Their wings are thin flapping things that look more like dragonflies than butterflies. They never... more
“I thought you were going to play football,” she says.
“Yeah,” I say.
“You’re wearing jeans.”
“Yes.”
She is folding... more
It is noon. Very hot. The Denver sun’s pitiless spotlight pushes down upon pedestrians carrying briefcases or carryout lunches. Like... more
How he got the resort people to put these tubs out here, I have no idea.
"I didn't want to ever be outside of this moment. I knew at some point I would look at the picture I'd just taken and feel an overwhelming sense of loss. I thought as long as we could manage to stay inside this particular hotel room, to avoid our phones and every person with whom we'd ever come into contact, we would continue to feel whole. We were revolutionaries, goddamnit. These were our accumulation of beautiful moments. Before the world fractured us. I don't expect you to understand how I became Brad Pitt in that moment, how we all just flew along down the highway. Bandits. Ex-patriots. In love with this countryside, if not this country. Paper Moon. The Last Picture Show. All of this shot in black and white. Only the final scene in color."
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.
