Mostly Dead Things
Kristen Arnett
"Guys at our high school baited gator. Brynn didn’t like it, but she usually tagged along, which meant that I’d go too. They brought cases of cheap beer and built bonfires out of old Christmas trees down at the river, which ran about forty minutes away from our neighborhood. We’d carpool out in all the boys’ shitty cars with no air-conditioning, struggling souped-up engines, windows rolled down until we were nearly coated in condensation."
Pablo Neruda’s Life as a Struggling Poet in Sri Lanka
A Young Poet's Adventures in the Foreign Service
Philippe Petit Meditates on His Life Walking the High Wire
Glimpses of the Finite and Infinite, As Translated by Paul Auster
New York City in the 1930s, As Seen Through the Lens of Berenice Abbott
From a New Compilation of Her Work
What It’s Like to Teach Writing When Everyone’s a Writer
Janet Burroway Revisits Her Classic Book for Creative Writing Students
Patsy
Nicole Dennis-Benn
"Just two years shy of 30, Patsy has nothing to show for it besides the flimsy brown envelope that she uses to shade herself from the white-hot glare of the sun. The envelope contains all her papers—from birth certificate to vaccination records. But most importantly, it carries her dream, a dream every Jamaican of a certain social ranking shares: boarding an airplane to America. For the destination, and for the ability to fly."
“Sweet sweet strawberry taste”
Samuel Kóláwólé
"At an abandoned building’s fence, we sat on old ashes and traded banter. we gathered supplies on torn glossy pages between our splayed legs. The pages were brochures from American colleges mailed free of charge upon request. The brochures showed students smiling and holding folders close to their chests or sitting with legs crossed on stone benches, lecture halls with semicircular tiers, beautiful young ladies playing handball on well-manicured turf."
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