Fiction
Beak
The landlord requires proof of the infestation, and proof—per clause twelve, subsection three of the lease—must come in the form of a living specimen, safely contained. A dead specimen is insufficient, he has repeatedly explained.
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Fiction
Poetry
Old Brooklyn Magic
I wanted to paint an eerie portrait of the Brooklyn Bridge area as I first experienced it, capturing both a feeling of wonder and unease, for any place with enough character and history can feel like it has an undercurrent of old magic that may ensnare you.
Fiction
Fiction
A Girl Goes on a Date Alone at Night
he found the first man on Tinder, or maybe on Hinge, and the restaurant where they met was glowing with antique lamps and green brocade wallpaper and velvet couches, everything soft and inviting, not a single hint of what was to unfold in an hour or two.
Fiction
Poetry
Touch This Cancer, It Probably Won’t Bite
This piece comes from a childhood of taking piano lessons. I switched to other instruments after high school, but I still remember how to read sheet music.
Fiction
Fiction
sharp house
Little is more crushing than the idea that no matter what you do, you are only capable of destruction, and everyone knows it. I wanted to weave that fear into this story, and to push tenderness and violence up against each other. How can we understand one without understanding the other?
Fiction
Poetry
in your mind, they still dance
What is storytelling if not our duty to necromancy? Our duty to bring life to ashes? This poem was largely inspired by society’s response to The Dancing Plague of 1518, a notable instance of the virus-like phenomenon of people frantically dancing themselves to collapse and even death. To this day, no one knows what caused these outbreaks, yet, centuries later, its nebulous and horrific occurrence continues to call scholars and artists to reanimate history into a mirror of the present.
