Our Stone

The full text of this story is currently not available online.

I found a large brown boulder one day, and I decided to bring it in. I put it in our living room and then, to please my wife, swept up the trail of dirt it had left on our carpeting. The big brown boulder sat there like it owned the place. I could almost see it cross its arms. Its top was pointy; it had a big bulging belly and a squat base.

Poetry Feature: Roy Jacobstein

Featuring the poems:

  • Round Trip
  • Fireballs of the Eucharist
  • Still
  • License

At the Beach

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Rosa’s cat was short-haired, black and white, with half its left ear torn away and a tail that twitched when the cat meant to do evil. If Rosa failed to notice the tail, the cat might rake claws across her hand as she petted him. She fancied herself a cat lover, but this animal led her to thoughts of betrayal.

A Conversation with Sven Birkerts

The full text of this interview is currently not available online.

“I am looking for the bigger, deeper, more sustaining project. But so far all I have are inklings. One is in a mental file called ‘the death of the imagination….'”

What a Writer Does Best

The full text of this foreword is currently not available online.

The best writers don’t always stand in easy proximity either with “what’s happening” or with their own natural subjects or voices.  What they do best isn’t necessarily either fashionable or–contrary to theories about following one’s bliss–fun.

Iraq: The First Arab Shia State

The full text of this essay is currently not available online.

Al-Rashid Street is an old colonnaded road of shops in the heart of Baghdad. At its entrance sits the historic British Residency, where the influential British administrator and diplomat Gertrude Bell, the famous ‘Daughter of the Desert’ and ‘uncrowned queen of Iraq,’ once lived and literally drew Iraq onto the map.

Their Bodies, Their Selves

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They had lived a clothed life. An accident had changed that. But what was an accident? It was just a word. There was no reason at all that what had happened shouldn’t have happened….[H]ere the two of them sat, Drayton and Sarah Maguire, naked, wilted.

Runes and Incantations

The full text of this essay is currently not available online.

I’ve always believed in signs and will do almost anything to predict the future.  Often the first to pry open my fortune amid the remains of a Chinese dinner, I inhale the smell of the cookie itself as prophecy: that honeyed shellac, the faintest bitter whiff of lemon.

Wild Girls

The full text of this story is currently not available online.

When Deborah said, “Jason, you know I’m a little in love with you,” he pretended not to hear. Deborah was twenty-one. She was a tattooed and bejeweled art student currently taking a painting class with him.

Poetry Feature: Brent Pallas

Featuring the poems:

  • If
  • Darwin’s Dog
  • Taking the Cure
  • Maldonado
  • My Dear Fox