Two boys sat on a log in the middle of a valley. The trees surrounding them blocked out the sunlight and the boys had trouble seeing their hands in front of their faces. A woman appeared from a cluster of trees.
A tall woman and a small man walked down the street one late morning in a town in New Hampshire. They looked confused and weathered and people stared at them as they passed by. She picked up a… Read More
Illustration: “Melting Men” (detail), by Nele Azevedo We held hands in my dream, in the waking sleepwalk I call living. We held hands and you explained the lightness in your touch — you were dead. It seemed so… Read More
Art: Paleolithic steppe bison, Cave of Altamira, Spain. It was only when the third sun rose and the heat became unbearable that she stopped. As the ritual of sun set began, she crawled from under the grasses and… Read More
By Peg Alford Pursell (In this first installment of a triptych of very short tales, Peg Alford Pursell explores how memory and dreams transform everyday reality. Her work is muted but luminous, full of open-eyed marvel and a… Read More
By Rosanne Griffeth This morning, there is no skin. No callous, no glove, no covering, just pink, flayed tissue with no granulation and white tendons barely holding everything together. I am a study in vivisection. My obicularis oris… Read More