When traveling in the desert, you judgethirst by touching the tip of your tongueto the inside of your cheek. The canyon trek is harsh, and every breath feels like breathing inthe beginning of time, and tastes like ancient salt,mined from the bones of the wind. This...
there are two men in my assigned bathtub.One claims the middle seat.I like the middle he announces.It sounds sexual but isn’t. He’s an all-beige man, with bleached skin and bleached teeth, the color of an over-proofed virgin. No one listens to him or the hymns he is...
“The Gilroy Garlic Shoppe” by Scott Schrantz is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0 or every time I feel like a bird struck by a plane & then falling toward the world below, I think about the dayI stumbled into Gilroy known chiefly for its garlic—the stench of...
Photo: U.S. Navy photo by Wendy Hallmark, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons where, in the humid, I girl again, and hermit, a reluctant amphibian, run circles—relearning how to breathe this percentage. Of leg ache and preemptive grief. It rains alternate days while...
Illustration by Amy Bobeda I am walking in madison square parkit is busypeople are going,to eatalyfor pistachio pastemy bag,is fullof spices from kalustyan’swhere a coupledancedin front of the halva because they are getting marriedI am walking past a man in a hammock...
It’s a touted local attraction—Hobo Hot Springs—peeling paint, faded sign, the steps leading into the pool slimed in green. In the changing room, a woman from eight miles down the road strips off her XXL stretch pants and faded cotton panties without shame, as she...
