“Cheryl! That’s great news. I didn’t even know you were psychic!” exclaimed Marian, her face alight with excitement. “I’m not psychic, Marian.” “Oh, of course not. That was silly of me. You can just read the future in the stars,” the last syllable trailed off, a hint of mysticism in […]
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To: Jeremy Fuentes, Ph.D Professor of Cultural Anthropology University of California, Berkeley Jeremy – I assume you have heard about the strange discovery made at 918 E. 3rd Street – a converted warehouse located on the corner of 3rd and Weller Avenue, in the middle of the Arts District in
Three Friends Diner Read More »
First it was the gays. Then the Muslims. Then the terrorists. Then the gay terrorist Muslims. I don’t know. It’s hard to keep track of who you’re meant to be hating when you’re a straight, white male. I put that as my Facebook status once. Thirty four likes. I felt
‘The first time I heard the legend of the Mad Hangman was from another inmate in our prison. He told me that there was a man with the ability to ward off death. That he was immortal. At first I thought it was a comforting fable for people who were
My older brother is a cop. Naturally, he has a protective instinct over me, his little, only, sister. The cop factor does not help. I was always babied by my family, but me and Greg, my brother, always had a closer bond. Whenever one of my other brothers picked on
Paolo fed me one last strawberry from the painted clay bowl. He let the juice drip down my chin and then kissed away every last trace. For a moment I was lost in the beauty of his herculean bronzed skin and the sound of the ocean crashing on the shore.
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Doctor Avraham Strauss was confused. In a moment of clarity, he questioned why and how he had come to be walking down this particular corridor, in this castle, at this precise time. Red corridor, Colditz Castle, the middle of winter 1942. How could he, as a Jew, even have considered
A solitary wooden cabin hid itself deep within the rustling forest. Enclosed all around by towers of gnarled ancient trees, the thick black of night helped the cabin to completely disappear from sight. A glowing fire crackled in the hearth within the cabin, casting its dim red and gold light
We all have that one story, don’t we? The one you grow up thinking about, but never actually grow the balls to tell anyone. Well this is my story. I don’t know what I’m hoping to accomplish by telling you. Maybe I’m looking for someone to tell me that I’m
“Don’t let them have anything to eat,” Mrs Dumfries said, rummaging through her handbag that weighed down her shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to give a reassuring smile. “Of course you will. Nothing will go wrong, I’m sure,” Mr Dumfries nodded. “And they have to be in bed
It always began to stalk as dusk drew to a close. I should begin with trying to define ‘it’, but there are no words as to what it really is. It is an unfathomable object, a three-dimensional hundred-sided object with no faces, like an optical illusion. On the numerous occasions
Jolene is dead. She was the greatest thing in my life. And I loved her. — I went through quite a lonely spell as a younger child. It is possible that I never grew out of it. When I was much younger I used to be constantly transfixed by the
Jolene Jolene Jolene Jolene Read More »
“It’s nice,” said Phil, “I still can’t believe you own a house.” “Me neither, bro,” said Howard, “I mean, not at all.” The two were standing in the mostly undecorated living room. The walls were recently painted a deep Marsala color (“Color of the year 2015, bro. Get on that.”)
Part 1- Everything in its Right Place “There are two colours in my head There are two colours in my head What was that you were trying to say? What was that you were trying to say?” 1-5-1. Weird riffs. Voice sampling. Lyrical randomness. I could see through everything in
My name is Dr. Miranda Solomon. Until yesterday I was a clinical research scientist for Apollyon Pharmaceuticals. I believe it is morally imperative that I warn the public about a new drug that will soon be available. DO NOT, under any circumstances, take Cyvalopram, which is being marketed as an
When my sister was about 15 she lived with our mother, in the North West Province of South Africa. It’s bush-veld area, which means lots of thorn trees, long yellow grass, very few neighbors, and silence. They lived in an old farm house on the very top of a hill
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My mother had gotten it for me at a neighborhood garage sale. The family had just lost their son, about my age too, nine or ten and they were trying to get rid of some of his older toys, and other things they didn’t need around the house. It had
I wake up. Another beautiful day. You know the best thing about living in a big city? You can completely reinvent yourself at any time. Become someone entirely new. That’s great for someone like me. I don’t like routine. I did try living in small towns at first, but the
Greek: παράνοια (paranoia), “madness”, παρά (para), “beside”, νόος (noos), “mind” For the sake of protecting my identity, as if it matters at this stage, I’ll tell you my name is Freddie. I’m 20 years old and at the time of these events I studied at a University in Southern England.
As I am typing this, I am trying to be as calm as possible. As calm, as possible. I am hoping to God it cannot read what I am writing. I have acquired a… new friend. He is a very nice one. He stays with me all the time. He
The first week. It’s all in the numbers. That’s how you understand anything of real value in this world. At this point, we don’t need the baby monitor anymore. But even after all this time, I still need the static to fall asleep. It was a while ago when the
You live on your own, and you tell yourself this is by choice, but really part of the reason is you were never that great with people. Which is also part of the reason you live about ten miles from the nearest town. “The land was cheap” you’ll say. “The
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Part I I’m driving maybe a bit too fast and smoking probably a few too many cigarettes. I love this… this part of the tale. The story can go anywhere from here. You know nothing until I go on—whoever “I” may be to you. Sometimes I wish the story would
My grandmother has looked after me completely since I was about four; my mum couldn’t cope after my dad died and handed me over to her mother. I see my mum a couple of times a month, but she’s always distant and awkward, and not much fun to talk to.
