VALENTINE POPA by Leeore Schnairsohn ________Under each formula lies a corpse. ________—Emil Cioran Stevie and Valentine were playing the terrifying F-minor cello sonata of George Enescu, the Romanian genius, at a house party in Brooklyn. The room where they played was paneled with wood and looked like a ship’s cabin. Each time Stevie […]
Fiction 99
Hannah Litvin: Rugsweeping, And Other Lost Arts
Rugsweeping, and Other Lost Arts If you ever want to fall madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with someone that doesn’t know the first thing about you, and you want to know everything, every littlest thing about them, you should become a housekeeper. First, you […]
Emily Taylor: “Former First Ladies”
________I used to know which apartment was hers, and when we walked down the avenue, I’d crane my neck for Jackie O. When I’m in Manhattan now, and walking on certain streets, I still feel the buzz of compressed nerves in my brain and a certain type of euphoria: half spinal, half a sweet spot […]
Cameron Mackenzie: “Rowdy”
Rowdy “I’ll tell you how he did it. I’ll tell you how he did it right now.” Reese leaned forward and spread out his arms, batting at everyone’s knees where they sat in the deck chairs around him. Everyone giggled and held their drinks to their chests and pulled up their feet as […]
Andrew Bertaina: “The Offering”
The offering At church this morning, I passed around a collection plate to gather up the scraps of all the people I have known. The bowl was silver and its size was like that of space. Inside, I found: a hike through a hailstorm in Colorado where blue jays […]