RESULTS FOR Stories
30shollywood

Immigrant’s Song

Chris Oxley

10.15.18

Chris Oxley with a moving historical essay following a Russian-born Jewish songwriter’s immigration and aspiration in turn-of-the-20th-century America.

veiled nun

Failure Porn

Priscilla Posada

09.26.18

“I read an article on Frieze.com, and want to borrow the line ‘beyond repression and fetishization’ from Jörg Heiser. Then I go buy groceries and a new charger for my planned obsolescent-phone.” Fiction by Priscilla Posada.

stars

“What Else” & “Stay”

Chris Garson

09.19.18

“This may be where my performance of data-entry operations begins to decline, causing the seams of the sky to split and everyone to be expelled.” Fiction by Chris Garson.

bulb

Mood Lighting

Melissa Mesku

09.12.18

“All the light switches in this apartment are broken, each in a different way.” Melissa Mesku goes all Georges Perec on the various kinds of lighting in her home.

Black_space

Summer In The City.

Steve Anwyll

09.05.18

“The apartment has no airflow. And in this heat. It’s damp. Suffocating. Unbearable.” New fiction by Steve Anwyll.

grass

My Piss Is

Tracy Lynne Oliver

08.28.18

“My piss is a gray squirrel named Nutmeg. It scampers wet. And I am relieved.” Short fiction by Tracy Lynne Oliver.

texture

This Weekend

Tracy Lynne Oliver

08.23.18

“The saddest thing is a dying horse. That time I hit one with my car. How I sat beside it while it died. Begging it to rise again, let me on its back, how we could just ride away and eat grass and lick salt.” Short fiction by Tracy Lynne Oliver.

downrain

The Brothers Squimbop

David Leo Rice

08.15.18

“The Brothers Squimbop, Jim and Joe, plied their trade in the dusty American interior of the 2070s, which, following the logic that Y2K was the Zero Hour and it was all linear reversion from there, mapped almost perfectly onto the 1930s.” New fiction by David Leo Rice.

close up red maple leaf

Cinderella’s Stepsister

Cezarija Abartis

08.08.18

“I pick up the knife from the table. It’s heavy and beautiful. I look at my foot, imagine lines of red blood in shiny bubbles speaking to me, singing.” New fiction by Cezarija Abartis.

crowd

The City is Killing Me

Kevin Spaide

08.01.18

“Bars are often known by the names of bartenders who died thirty or forty years ago. The name over the door is always something nobody ever says.” New fiction by Kevin Spaide.