Featured Prose 

11.22.16

Sometime in the small hours of Friday morning, the imposing figure of Roberto T. was assaulted in the alley behind F&B’s Printing Works.

9.16.16

There is no time for introductions here—no room for a handshake in the form of an orchestra.

11.21.13

After you died, I walked home.

10.11.13

Strangers started touching my belly last week before Gene took notice.

7.21.13

The beginning of the story is that one summer my left lung collapsed.

4.25.13

I was bored of my cup.

9.1.12

O— takes me to a silent film, Paris that Sleeps.

8.26.12

M. van Tool was so long that the end rails were removed from his bed.

8.17.12

She opened the door to the room to the house.