Right at the crux of the turn, where bright headlight beams reach their limit in the outer dark, a tight cluster of four white crosses flashes into focus. A moment later it's gone. There's been colliding here. Now our car propels its pilgrims forward, eating the road beneath.
by Luke Rodehorst
16 Jul.
Run, Rabbit, Run
—or: Being a Bump in the Beaten Track

by: Amanda Hughes
Motherland

by: Magdalena Serafin
Songs of Ourselves

by: J.P. Gorman

Past Articles

The Olive Tree (24 Feb. 10)

Hassan is late returning from the Mosque tonight, but when he finally walks through the open doorway to my room, he is carrying a large, ornate Qur’an. I put away my Neal Stephenson.

by: Joel F.S. McMurry
Getting His Roxxxy Off (17 Feb. 10)
—or: Transcript of a Developer's Vlog

“She can’t vacuum, she can’t cook[,] but she can do almost anything else if you know what I mean,” the New Jersey-based artificial intelligence engineer said. “She’s a companion.”

by: Jacob Malone
The Family Company (08 Jan. 10)

Casey Johnson is the first real face I’ve had to the family, and I’ve seen much more than her face now that news agencies are airing her engagement video to Tila Tequila (politely referred to as “Ms. Tequila”) in which the two prance around in their underwear, intoxicated on a little more than love.

by: Tracy Mumford
Stringing Along

by: Yi Wei
Automotivated

by: Joel F.S. McMurry
Kanchanaburi

by: Brent Katte