culture

IF YOU LOVE ME, You’ll Eat This

In my family, food is how we say, “I love you.” The meal we cook is a valentine. Eating every bit of what’s served is a return kiss. And this lover’s dance passed down to me. If I care about you, I cook for you.     I learned this from my grandmother, “Nanny,”...

“Unlovable” Thing

I could only watch in horror as he grabbed anything to stop her from moving.  I wonder if someone else saw me struggling like I was seeing her but wasn’t sure whether to stop it.  This thought alone made me hesitate next to the glass, stomach in a knot.  Was he...

The Scent of Sun

Photo: The Longest Night: The hangers are often the last working during those endless hours of harvest, stuck inside air conditioned boxes while hurricane fans shoot kief in the eyes and the sun threatens to slip over the morning hills, crushing the possibility of...

Pet-sitting on the Road: Do I Need a Vet or a Shrink?

The dog’s name was Bentley. I should have known there would be trouble, because my name is Bentley too. And though I don’t poop on the carpet, I have some anxiety issues as well. But I’m getting ahead of myself, so let’s anchor: for years, my girlfriend Alice and...

Hereś how I was brought up in an egg carton. And hereś how I broke out

I live in the Capital of the Confederacy in an area thatś divided into groups. There are gated habitations for the rich, middle-class and poor. There are also “faith-based groups” for Baptist, Mormon, Jehovah Witness and so forth. Most of these groups are...

Hidden Weeds | Buying Pot in Puerto Escondido

"This weed is garbage." I say it aloud, even though there is no one to hear me. It's like my testament to the universe. I know that living in Vancouver, one of the very best places for high-quality cannabis on the planet has really spoiled me. However, the bag of...

Our goal is to provide a genuine reflection of the human experience in today’s world through the art of literature. We preach “tolerance” yet have forgotten its true meaning. We love creating labels only to be angered when those labels give rise to anti-movements. Are we too connected?

IF YOU LOVE ME, You’ll Eat This

IF YOU LOVE ME, You’ll Eat This

In my family, food is how we say, “I love you.” The meal we cook is a valentine. Eating every bit of what’s served is a return kiss. And this lover’s dance passed down to me. If I care about you, I cook for you.     I learned this from my grandmother, “Nanny,” we...

read more
“Unlovable” Thing

“Unlovable” Thing

I could only watch in horror as he grabbed anything to stop her from moving.  I wonder if someone else saw me struggling like I was seeing her but wasn’t sure whether to stop it.  This thought alone made me hesitate next to the glass, stomach in a knot.  Was he...

read more
The Scent of Sun

The Scent of Sun

Photo: The Longest Night: The hangers are often the last working during those endless hours of harvest, stuck inside air conditioned boxes while hurricane fans shoot kief in the eyes and the sun threatens to slip over the morning hills, crushing the possibility of...

read more

A Man of Class

Arthur threw down The Wall Street Journal onto the tablecloth. After pushing his soft-boiled egg and toast to the center of the table, he tore off the bottom right corner of the paper containing the story that prompted his revulsion. Then he grabbed his cell phone...

Bubbles

She was walking barefoot, back and forth in the way too long corridor of her house and thinking: Sabuncakis must be closed by now, coffee shops must be packed with people, sea buses must be slicing through the dark blue waters and taking revenge of their usedness,...

Trigger Happy

In photos of myself from that day, I stand with my right foot in front of my left, my weight leaning into the gun, just like Chris taught me. One eye squinted, the other wide open, focused. When I look at the photos, I feel even more in control than I felt in the...

Bonfire and the Match: Burning the Joint for Creative Potential

It was not quite midnight. The bleached out ball of the Alaskan sun was drooling over the Chugach while the summer waters of the North Pacific were licking the pebbles on our salty strip of beach. We had a ripping bonfire sending a twist of blaze into the washed out...

Tariq

My first day in Kani on the southern Saharan fringe, I met Tariq. His skin was darker than the sand under my feet, but not quite the burnt brown of the dust that blew from the west every afternoon, darkening the sky and burnishing the mud- and stone-walls of the...

Shifting Cultural Value—or—Tim and Woody Go to the Opera

Our names weren’t really Tim and Woody. When we were little, my cousin Jim and I occupied ourselves by pretending that we were lost in the jungle or that we were detectives on the trail of a criminal mastermind or that we were cowboys ridin’ across the prairie...
A Man of Class

A Man of Class

Arthur threw down The Wall Street Journal onto the tablecloth. After pushing his soft-boiled egg and toast to the center of the table, he tore off the bottom right corner of the paper containing the story that prompted his revulsion. Then he grabbed his cell phone and...

read more
Bubbles

Bubbles

She was walking barefoot, back and forth in the way too long corridor of her house and thinking: Sabuncakis must be closed by now, coffee shops must be packed with people, sea buses must be slicing through the dark blue waters and taking revenge of their usedness, and...

read more
Trigger Happy

Trigger Happy

In photos of myself from that day, I stand with my right foot in front of my left, my weight leaning into the gun, just like Chris taught me. One eye squinted, the other wide open, focused. When I look at the photos, I feel even more in control than I felt in the...

read more

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