Wakefield In some old magazine or newspaper, I recollect a story, told as truth, of a man—let us call him Wakefield—who absented himself for a long time from his wife. The fact, thus abstractedly stated, is not very uncommon, nor—without a proper distinction of circumstances—to be condemned either as naughty or nonsensical. Howbeit, this, though Read More …

Wasted For 24 hours after his world imploded, Nate lay in a St. Vincent’s Hospital bed, alternating between moaning like a homeless lunatic over Sheila and swearing at various masochistic Attack on America marathons, as a platoon of overworked Samaritans tested and treated him for respiratory system dysfunction. Every so often he could smell the Read More …

Eyes on the Road Driving along a stretch of road I look down along a patch of wood thicket behind a strip mall and see a hanging, broken branch of dead leaves. I keep my gaze a second longer than I normally would while speeding along and notice that the branch of leaves is actually Read More …

Story for a Cold Night Ron says to Harry, “This guy inherits an island from some benign son-of-a-bitch.” &nbsp Harry presses his palms on the cement, adjusting his butt against a piece of insulation, his daybed. He watches forms passing in the street, the dusky light slanting. “Must be six by now.” &nbsp Ron hikes Read More …

The Best of Luck On a round table the backgammon board is open and abandoned. Three pieces are stacked skew-whiff on the hinged divider and a rose-coloured tumbler lies on its side in one of the trays. The dice are nowhere in evidence. The red and black triangles are still cluttered as if in play, Read More …

Dazzlepaint Men see what they need to in times of war. But what men claimed to have seen during the Great War defied imagination. Henry V’s angel archers descending to save the British at Mons. Lord Kitchener lost on a mission to reclaim Ultima Thule. The defeated Kaiser’s rambling claims of a Masonic conspiracy. The Read More …

Nothing But The Truth! Barney Shivers didn’t have much use for fiction, not at first. &nbsp Whenever Rita Lumpkin, whose desk was next to his, spoke glowingly of some novel she’d reviewed, he reacted with baffled but polite indifference.  More than once, she actually thrust a book into his hands for him to read.  But Read More …

Woodland Valley Hideout After the intense focus of editing Lester’s Movie was over and it was making its way into the world, my days at the cabin were empty. &nbsp One morning as I looked in the mirror I was suddenly disoriented by the shaggy creature staring back at me. Auster had brought me shaving Read More …

What Effect The Sachet Had I’m dreaming, was my first thought. My body had risen weightless into the air, helped by the movements I’d made, like swimming; the cold night air blew chill on my cheeks and ruffled my hair. My heart was beating wildly. &nbsp For me, who all these wretched years had been Read More …

Cinema Noir Isobel Harper wakes to the dream. The images come back in her waking hours like still frames of cinema noir, the camera shots collapsing and superimposing upon each other: &nbsp A girl’s silent scream caught in the glare of a street light. &nbsp A man’s fist poised at a door. &nbsp Street signs Read More …