Archives

TWO MICROS by t.r. san

February 23, 2026

Natural Born Killers I hope there are naïve and genuinely delusional sexpats out there who’d jump off of JLK Building or O-NES Tower or Q1 Sukhumvit if their favorite whore gets herself married to another john, especially now that they’ve made every kind of marriage legal here, and johns who like getting dicked down and johns who like dicking down can both indiscriminately start killing themselves over this sort of thing. It’s true I like making up many businessmen in my head but this is not without basis. I know that many young girls who were prostitutes also soliciting other

A FISH STORY: PART 3 by Michael Seymour Blake

February 22, 2026

JAIL TIME by Duff Allen

February 20, 2026

As a little boy nothing made me happier than to visit Dad in jail. Daniel, Mom would say every time, you haven’t forgotten your father, have you? We both sat down on the same side across from him. Who I called Dad, Mom called Daniel. He didn’t call her anything. He didn’t speak to her. He only spoke to me. Tell me how your grades are, he said. You don’t wanna end up a loser, like all these guys. Dad would look around then at the other tables with other prisoners. They were talking to their families too. I knew

THE FACEPLANT by Jamey Gallagher

February 19, 2026

We got the plant at the plant show and we brought the plant home and we put it on the windowsill and we watched it—not constantly but a lot more than we watched our other plants. Its lanceolate leaves grew fast. It got these paper-thin blooms that grew and unfurled and became translucent and turned out to be faces. Lips, nostrils, cheeks, eyeholes: all the usual face parts. The faces, after they unfurled, made little motions all day. Moues, I guess you could say. Women’s faces, men’s faces, it was hard to tell which. Some of the faces were stunningly

WITNESS by Katherine Shehadeh

February 18, 2026

Mustawteneen. Every summer I visit Palestine, I learn new words. Some force their way to the forefront, defining the summer the way “songs of the summer” take hold of collective consciousness in America. Wanting to put this summer’s defining words to paper while the ordeal is raw, I’ve moved outside to an overlooked corner of the home abutting an olive grove. Someone hammers at the metal shop across the street. It’s windy and hot, a typical August in Palestine. We’ve been in Silwad, a hillside village with a respectably-sized population of about 6,000, for four days. Our first morning in,

DISCO AND THE INFERNAL CITY: AN INTERVIEW WITH CALEB BETHEA by Rebecca Gransden

February 17, 2026

The city lights up after nightfall, and Caleb Bethea knows the way. With Disco Murder City (Maudlin House, 2025) Bethea takes the lead, chasing fear along emptied alleys, into pulsating nightclubs filled with star-kissed divas. The sweat of violence and the will to get down infect every pore, and demons release their energy with a smile. Bethea decorates the city in cinematic grit and sparkle. The only thing more silver than the screen are the knee high platform boots. I spoke to Caleb about the book. Rebecca Gransden: Disco Murder City takes place in a world saturated in the

FETISH by Courtney McEunn

February 16, 2026

He loved how pale lines looked on my skin. After we fuck, he’d trace his fingertips up and down the jagged, raised scars. One night, he admitted jealousy. He wanted—no—needed to be there when it happened. Who was I to deny? I came over when the sun set. Every three nights. After his confession, he led me to his at-home office, grabbed a dull pair of hot pink Fiskars from the desk drawer and made the cuts. Not deep, but enough for warm bubbles to spill. He spread my blood with his tongue. He couldn’t wait long enough to take

A FISH STORY: PART 2 by Michael Seymour Blake

February 15, 2026

JULIA FISHWELL by Kai Broach

February 13, 2026

When I met Julia Fishwell, I was trying out a lot of different deodorants. A fungal infection had left my armpit skin itchy and brittle. The Old Spice I’d used since puberty was too harsh. All the new ones too. Every week I smelled like a different person. Julia stared straight at me from behind the drug store counter. “You don’t want this one.” She swept my hypoallergenic stick from the conveyor to clatter against other rejections in a basket at her feet. She rapped the counter like I was a distractable pet. “I’ll be right back.” She stepped from

FEAR THEORY by Lizzie Challen Hubbard

February 12, 2026

Everything I know about love I learnt working weekend shifts on the Ghost Train. It was a sweet gig for a 15 year-old — sitting in the mucky perspex booth, trading tokens for screams. We opened after the sun went down, when the kids from nearby villages would descend in packs. In the queue, the mating ritual would begin. They would size each other up and pair off, giggling and bopping to the music. People go crazy for fairground music. Despite this, there was always a gap between partners. Sometimes it was small but it was always there, as if