There lacks a certain poetic justice
in frat boys on a wrap-around porch.
Issue 1 – Spring 2017
My mother plays all night. Sometimes the lights shut off when the hotel is cheap, or when we are at home and she has not touched the electric bill since I put it on the kitchen table. But she keeps playing, impervious to the dark or the cold, the sound of her violin flooding the blackness, shaping it, filling it with her ghosts.Read More
I cycled through many of the things I had thought I might say if I ever saw you again, ranging from I love you to asking for your French onion dip recipe I’d never quite intuited correctly, to punching you in the gut, if for no other purpose than so you’d double over and I could kick you in the face.Read More
Foundation seems like the place to start. The logic in the name seemed too obvious to ignore. Natural Buff, light to medium, Shade 03 is printed on the back. A glob of cool, slimy liquid snakes out of the bottle. My tentative first strokes gain more assurance as I contemplate the name.Read More
His pointed face passes next to you when the new passengers enter the train and his hand touches yours when he grabs the rail above your head and you try to push yourself away from him in the crowded train. You clutch the keys in your purse without thinking and despite the humid air of the subway, you feel his hot breath on your neck just above your scarlet winter coat.Read More
We all have tricks on how to bend the rules but the money is too consistent to risk getting caught. Sure, we’re all chosen based on our shapes and sizes to fill in the designer dresses- but it’s our job. Plus, they give us what they consider ‘options,’ a chance to still feel connected to our final look.Read More