Mac Blauner

There is the whoop of a siren, and suddenly red and blue lights play over the backs of her closed eyelids. She lies in bed. She knows it’s the cops. This is always how she wakes when they come to her father’s house in th...

Coree Spencer

Most of the kitchen staff and busboys at Mary Ann's Mexican restaurant on Fifth Street and Second Avenue in the East Village are from the Dominican Republic, like Luis, a cook in his early twenties. Despite being just a few...

Ryan Leone

Back in the days when relationships weren't digitized and couldn't just be deleted, you had to rip down pictures until there were only taped corners left on the wall that would taunt for a lifetime as torn and tiny ghosts. ...

Ron Kolm

It’s a cold morning, two weeks before Christmas, and I’m walking across 57th street on my way to work when I noticed him up ahead, shuffling along the curb -- silver hair, blue jacket and white sneakers – not dressed f...

Jim Feast

Clarissa felt as if she had gone from starving on a diet of bread and water to gorging on a bountiful smorgasbord. In Oblong, where she grew up, any glimmerings of culture were hard to discern. Her one friend in school, a f...

Jason DeBoer

Killing the Dogs of Kathmandu, by Jason DeBoer An excerpt from Annihilation Songs: Three Shakespeare Reintegrations, available now from Stalking Horse Press Editor's Note: This is one of the more interesting pieces that...

Liza Béar

New York, July 1 2016. We’d arranged to meet in the lobby of her hotel, a newfangled glass & steel construction with river views and sports facilities. Seated with chin propped on fist, almost in a Rodin Le Penseur pose, w...

Larissa Shmailo

As I contemplate my treatment by the psychiatrist J. B. M.D. over a span of twenty years, I recall some of the things the good doctor said and did. Dr. B. of Connecticut, of the upper classes. Who carried bedpans as an...