A comic by one Hobart 14 contributor, Adrienne Celt, based on an essay from Hobart 14 by Charles McLeod.
January 22, 2013 | Hobart 14
This month sees publication of our newest print issue, Hobart #14. As such,... more
A long time ago, somewhere between the year of personal vendetta and the year of night madness, a fortune-teller looked into my face and said, “You are both very beautiful and very unlucky. The two are not mutually exclusive.”
This month sees publication of our newest print... more
From the Vault: Redefining All-You-Can-Eat: Our 14-Hour Challenge to Ryan's Steakhouse by Blake Butler
The Atlanta AWP was the first one that... more
It is a well known but oft forgotten fact that children are unable to tell lies in the dark. With adults you can never be certain. Some can, some can’t. It depends upon the retained permeability of their heart.
Lugging along next to me on the elliptical is an older gentleman – about the age my dad would have been – wearing two high-tech knee braces, fit with gears and everything, and what looks like an old-fashioned weight belt. He’s a regular at the fitness center, same as me. We’ve acknowledged each other on occasion and said a thing or two in the sauna, but never a real question-and-answer. I’ve always wondered about his knees.
Top Ten of 2012
When it starts to rain we cross the street. I don’t know where we’re going, but something warm and scattered is jumping underneath my skin. He leads me to the door of an apartment building, nudges me onto its small step. Then, smooth as a cloud moving across the sky, he presses his body against mine.