Francine Witte

Every night when the sun sets, I see her. Just over my shoulder like a blind spot in the rearview. Always. Been like this forever. I tell this to my best friend Al, and she laughs her giggly laugh, the one that makes me ...

David Huberman

Cat woke me up. I immediately looked at my dollar fifty alarm clock. It was twelve noon, with the sun shining through our windows. My little sweetie was jumping up and down like a Mexican jumping bean, spitting and cursing i...

B. Kold

I’m ineligible to serve on a jury. Whenever I’m selected for jury duty, I never make it past the first voir dire—the part where the defense and district attorneys interview prospective jurors to ensure they’re not bi...

Patrick O'Neil

San Francisco, July 21, 1996 In the refrigerator are five cakes: carrot, lemon, raspberry swirl, three-layer chocolate, and some kind of tiramisu, or maybe it’s mocha. I can’t tell. Five large, heavily frosted cakes, ...

Ron Kolm

Duke knew it was going to be a bad day, even before he got out of bed. He had a splitting headache, and a lump the size of a nickel bag on the back of his neck. He couldn’t remember where he’d been last night—or how he...

Jonathan Shaw

I was seeing double with fatigue. But Narcisa was just getting started. She hopped along, from subject to subject, like a cocaine-crazed, hyperactive little fairy, flittering between realms of thought I could barely fatho...

Stewart Home

I’m a face. My breakout from Pentonville in 1958 has been praised as one of the greatest prison escapes of all time by the likes of south London gangster Mad Frankie Fraser. The details differ somewhat in the various accou...

Matt McLaren

Santa Barbara–1980 I didn’t have a mattress yet. it had been three months, but I still lay in my room on my dirty clothes, arranged under a fitted sheet. Ron stood in my doorway, leaning against the jamb. He stared at...

Carl Watson

The philosophers of the old romances say, and many specialists today concur, that desire is nothing more than the result of a necessary and continuous projection of the self into others; an unattainable wholeness is represen...

Robert C. Hardin

My father liked to say that I’d always been impossible to find. During birth, he recalled, I couldn’t be extracted with forceps. No one could see me, so I made my own way out of my mother. The midwife only located me aft...

Thaddeus Rutkowski

On the subway, I see a boy who is about 10 years old; he’s with his father. Both of them have red hair, but the boy has Asian features—a round face and pointy eyes. His father has a long face and Western eyes. Maybe this...

Peter Blauner

He liked to have his house in order, which was why he’d never had a family or pets. He liked his routines and there was nothing wrong with that. Every day in the summer months, he wore his father’s old Fire Department wi...

The Editors

Presenting Sensitive Skin 13, the Crime Special, featuring a multitude of criminally insane artists and writers. Sensitive Skin 13 features original fiction from Peter Blauner (Slow Motion Riot, The Intruder), Thaddeus ...

Jacques Mesrine (translated by Catherine Texier & Robert Greene)

In late February 1972, all my friends finally ended up in block 2. The winter was harsh. We had more than three feet of snow. Right away, Jean-Paul Mercier became a close friend. We saw eye to eye about everything. I knew he...

Maggie Estep

Last year, shortly after Maggie's passing, we published part one of her tour diaries. Here's part two of her adventures with Hole, The Beastie Boys and more, from Sensitive Skin Number 11, which we dedicated to Maggie. Oc...