The rusted pickup truck parked outside ends your pursuit; you pause in the doorway, your eyes adjust to the haze and track the room, past the jukebox, past the all-you-can-eat ...
She watches the pond from the front of the house. Upstairs. Her bedroom. In a pause between painting, where her brush wilts in the bottom of a green glass (a ...
All that winter we read Hannah Arendt, we read Men in Dark Times. Continue Reading LIGHTING THE MATCH
There’s this bizarro technique my doctor’s urging. It’s got a bunch of scientific terms that just sound to me like whatever whatever and no fucking way this is going to ...
My brother and I are surgeons. We spend our days in the woods by our home, slicing the limbs from eighty-year-old relics, listening to the sounds of splitting wood and ...
