Hosho McCreesh

BULL Interview by

I knew he had to be challenging. I knew he had to be his own biggest problem. I knew he had to be the hero and the villain of his life… I just didn’t know why. I knew I wanted to write a book about America, but I knew I didn’t want to write a sermon from a pulpit.More

If Not Affection…

If Not Affection…

Fiction by

Daryl awoke and found the fist-like lump just under his jawline. His wife was busy with the children—the children who were too careless to notice while he shuffled to get his coffee and a bowl of cereal. At the factory, his supervisor said Daryl needed to go to the doctor, but instead Daryl went toMore

Tiger Man

Tiger Man

Fiction by

He saw a strange version of himself. Despite the long scar down his chest, simply exposing his skin to the V at his navel created some kind of sexuality, something primal and full of energy. The tiger, the bell-bottoms—he surrendered to their absurdity, their excess, the sheer suggestion of showmanship. He kicked out the flared fabric then brought his legs down into a wide stance and swiveled his hips. He circled his hands in a karate chop move he’d seen Elvis deliver on stage, and then he dropped into one of the dramatic crouches Elvis sometimes used to punctuate the end of a song. More

Bittermoon

Bittermoon

Fiction by

Drunk and jealous in an exotic locale, he wonders: “What’s the opposite of a honeymoon?”More

August in Montreal

August in Montreal

Fiction by

He stood a little too close, whispered a little too urgently. More

You Don’t Get to Do This

You Don’t Get to Do This

Fiction by

The thoughts wouldn’t leave her head as Cal left for work on Monday, and when Graham wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her up for a kiss as soon as he walked inside the house.More

Prometheus

Prometheus

Fiction by

Blood is forever boy, he said. You remember that. Don’t ever forget it. I know, I know, the boy told him. The boy spit and kicked a mound of thawing slush. It was a cold evening. Purple-gray. Half-blind light failing. It would be dark in minutes. Where’s your sister at? She’s inside. Tell her toMore

McKenzie Friend

McKenzie Friend

Fiction by

In court no one can hear you scream.More

To Harry’s Mother

To Harry’s Mother

Fiction by

Your son is a tough little bastard who can take quite a load of punishment.More

Silence, Father

Silence, Father

Fiction by

“When grandmother passed away, father grew reticent. And I was okay with it, since he abandoned his routine of scolding me for lacking masculinity. Since he didn’t condemn every tear that fell from my face, spewing the same toxic rhetoric of how I needed to emotionally withdraw and appear similar to a parapet wrapped in black derma, to protect everyone around me, just like him. When I thought I would cry most, I felt nothing.”More

Tricks

Tricks

Fiction by

“And that was nice. Really nice. Just the two of us out there walking along the street, and if you ignored the duck that was probably dead, then we could have been some real couple who owned a dog together.”More

On Being Red Assed

On Being Red Assed

Essay by

“I wasn’t just a baseball player, I was Hard-Nosed. I was Gritty. I was a Ballplayer. I was Red Assed.”More

Toy Cars

Toy Cars

Fiction by

“While the world keeps building up around him he is stuck down there, stunted by childish habits and thought, the emotional, and spiritual level of an eight or nine-year-old child.”More

In Sickness

In Sickness

Fiction by

“He hadn’t told anyone, the first time. It had seemed like a marvelous secret, the kind you didn’t tell adults for fear of ruining the magic, and even though he was getting too old for fantasies like that now, he decided again to keep it to himself. Instead he tested his new-found strength.”More

Sparrows

Sparrows

Fiction by

“Meanwhile I’m thinking about how this is what a rehabilitated heroin addict should look like. Not like me, or the others. Imi has a job, money, a fiancé. In short, a life. It’s all worked out for him. Of course, it all depends on your perspective. I’m alive, so if we look at it that way, it worked out for me too.”More

Pallbearers

Pallbearers

Fiction by

“By saying yes in spite of the dangers, I felt I made myself vital and trusted. And was this not what a good American was supposed to do when making friends abroad? To open themselves up to new experiences, to say yes as much as possible, even when the proposition was frightening?”More

“The car had been through a reconstructed transmission, a busted carburetor, and was an absolute lush for Valvoline.” – Jordan Farmer, “Brothers”