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Page 211 from Issue 29

hidden inside me. 75. TF For all I know there's someone inside him. 76. TF I forbid him to write ... "What are you doing here?" 64. TF I didn't know the right answer. 65. TF He said, ... a snowbank, and somehow I hopped home with one foot bare. 74. TF I'm tired of clowning for someone ...
Blog

The Digital Reader: E-books

Matt Wood
didn't want to buy a separate device strictly for reading books, and I suppose I still had some loyalty ... tells me is whether I'm really into a book or not. The better the book, the less temptation to ... the lottery and quit my job, or if someone wants to come over and watch my kids, that's not going ...
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Page 14 from Issue 77

Winter 1989/90
a person who stands fast at the bottommost point, someone who intimately and endlessly examines fundamental ... that I cannot forgive. I ask how he spends his days and whether all of his achievements really help him ... At those times, illness has helped me immensely. He stands to reach for one of his books, then sits ...
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Page 218 from Issue 102

Spring/Summer 1998
she'd tell him in confession would be measured out differently because the man who judged the secrets ... hand felt tiny. My hand filled hers, overflowed. I didn't know how to say I was sorry and ... wasn't perfect after all. She wouldn't want to think all this about him, but now she would. Amy ...
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Page 32 from Issue 99

I'm treated. He and I both know who stole his lucky rabbit's foot, and I want it ... She'd handed the calculus book to the other white nurses standing next to her who were passing it back ... sorry for her, then was mad at her because she didn't want to feel sorry. ...
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Page 161 from Issue 78

a nurse as "the Best Friend." The impersonal article is more intimate. It tells me that ... and how long is the drive? The best I can explain it is this-I have a friend who worked one summer in ... a mortuary. He used to tell me stories. The one that really got to me was not the grisliest, but it's ...
Fiction

Political Fiction

Patrick Nathan
to explain to Richard, who I knew, when drunk, would finally understand and tell me how much he ... I knew she was an accounts manager at an insurance company. I didn’t know how much she knew about me, and ... I saw him. I don’t know why this meant so much to me. I think I was afraid of collapsing time, of seeing ...
Nonfiction

Deletism and the Imagination of Grief

Patrick Nathan
user-as-content. These platforms know which self-creators are most profitable, which is why Twitter’s noisiest ... one’s career or social standing—into capital of its own. It grows its capital by controlling how it ... interacted, which means they carry memories of how they experienced me or my personas in time, even if they’re ...
Poetry

Scared Violent Like Horses

John McCarthy
horsehair, as if they were untamed and lonely, galloping and wind-swollen. We didn’t know how to talk about ... because I am scared of time and how it moves, I look down at my fists that didn’t always want to, but have ... forgiveness. I don’t know how to let anything go. I don’t know how to say anything else about the boy who had ...
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Page 209 from Issue 53

gotten into the apartment. But then I realized-I don't quite know how-that he didn ... know she was really scared." "Then why didn't she mention any of this to ... him," she said. For a moment Ilona was silent. Then she said, "You know, last night I had an ...

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