Photo by Tony Pacitti It was the perfect sort of August day that you don’t really get in Rhode Island. That sticky, soul sucking humidity that defines New England’s deepest dog days had lifted, and the haze-free, endless blue sky hosted just a handful of picture...
Photo by Scott Anderson Old stone steps wedged in loam wind down the gorge to forest then river. Here shadows hide before noon and the world-weary congregate— cottonwoods, maples, oaks. Brown switchgrass. A hollowed out log worn smooth by wind, water, the work of...
“Sioux Passage” by Larry Mills is licensed under CC BY 2.0 Banana Kush on the Rocks, triple threat, a treble hook, dripping fentanyl, cast like a spell cast backwards, the Missouri River will dizzy you down, up, moves invisibly, buttery, the ghost of Ginger...
He worries about his mother reciting a list of salad leaves at her apartment door, about the silvering of the hairs at his temple and on his chin, and about the 12,000 green parakeets that shouldn’t be here. ‘What if they ate all the other birds?’ my partner asks me,...
Photo by lit3rd / Shutterstock.com If I were an alcoholic in Japan, I would be very good at hiding it. The way I would be very good at hiding everything: my panic attacks, my tattoos, my scars. No one would ever see me cry. Let’s get some vodka, I’d say to my Japanese...
