Stories Archives - Page 10 of 19 - Sensitive Skin Magazine

Tambourine Man: Gene Clark – Part 3

Drew Hubner

Dad's bread truck was the perfect cover. Parked on 7th Street, east of Ave B and Tompkins Park nodding out at the steering wheel. I gave him an hour. From the length of the ash on his cigarette, I could tell he wasn’t ...

Tambourine Man: Gene Clark – Part 2: No Other Tour

Drew Hubner

Mom had tawny hair and blue eyes and for the whole of her bar career guys fell in love with her. I think she modeled her life in some way after Tombstone. She used to cry when she saw it, and John Wayne asked Ma...

Tambourine Man: Gene Clark/No Other Memoir Project 1

Drew Hubner

I asked Dylan once, Did you make Gene Clark famous? And he said, No, Gene Clark made me famous. -Bobby Neuwirth On the night of January 16, 1991, Gene Clark and the four other original Byrds got together one last time to...

Gizmo

Gary Indiana

(from Gristle Springs, a novel of intrigue) In a detention cell at Gizmo, Umma Obikhan Khan, supposedly blind as the proverbial bat (having dwelt in many caves, the Umma knew well that bats are not at all blind, but simp...

Chapter 90 – Through the Valley of the Nest of Spiders

Samuel R. Delaney

Note: Inadvertently, Chapter [90] was left out of the printed version of the new novel by Samuel R. Delany, Through the Valley of the Nest of Spiders. Insert it on Page 956. What is now numbered Chapter [90] becomes [91]; [9...

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

James Joyce

Chapter One Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo His father told him t...

Purple Heron of the Night

Raúl Serrano Sánchez

Claudio was only trying to make up for all the years he’d spent yearning for those legs, the ones he was always telling you about over coffee in the newly restored center of the old city, in one of those bars that’s supp...

The Cherub

E. A. Fow

On the way to rehearsal, Amy thought she saw something flit away. An afterimage lingered in her eye, pink and faintly glowing, but she couldn’t make out what it was. She didn’t think about it again until the next day, wh...

Tenth Between Fear & Trembling

Max Blagg

We lived one floor up from a woodworking shop from which the tools had long since been stolen. It was on East Tenth Street, way over almost to the river, a view of the smokestacks of Con Edison’s 14th Street plant painted ...

Looking Back: Anxiety’s Greatest Hits

Patrick O'Neil

San Francisco, June 24, 1997 I’m in a dark, trash-filled alley between tall brick buildings. Two men stand in shadows. I can’t see their faces. I hand one of them money and he gives me a balloon of dope. I look up, th...