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Note from the Editor, Issue 7

I can’t read that much Franzen or Updike, but I can’t get enough of Chabon. I’d argue that’s because Chabon doesn’t hate me, and I’m not so sure about the other two. (Who knows. Maybe Chabon would hate me eventually, but I feel like he’d suspend judgment until he met me.) If you’re a frequent...

Palmistry

The gap at the base of the wall dividing their cells was designed as a channel for bloody runoff, but they found another use for it over those dragging, lightless days. The opening was almost too narrow for him to fit his hand through. His wrist was scraped ashen, and there was no better depiction...

His Favorites

It was a day for offerings, but only if she’d get up. From the bed, out her window, she squinted at the receding line of grey trees. Beyond was the yard, another darker grey in the afternoon shade, and beyond that, beyond all those shadows, well, greyness hooded the dismal town. She’d go. A few...

An Army of Frogs

I’m a dead frog and I don’t say this with any pity or understanding or shame it’s just an observation that people seem to like us, like us a bit too much because they like to push hooks through our jaws and cast us out to sea as well as amputate us for the sake...