He was about her age, twentysomething; he was also, somewhere under his filthy clothes and exploding dirty hair, good-looking. Handsome even. Drug addict, she concluded. Any second her Uber would be here.
Lynne Pickett’s When We Fell In Love
By high school I was sitting in front of a full-length mirror, staring at myself (as all teenagers do) and would tell stories into that mirror for hours as I completely lost track of time.
Anaesthesia Dolorosa
I hadn’t interacted much with Nadia. Our paths had crossed but never overlapped. My mother hired help for almost everything but had never outsourced parenting.
Alizah Hashmi’s When We Fell in Love
Unlike non-fiction or journalistic writing, fiction challenges norms more implicitly. I have always found audiences to be more receptive to, and empathetic towards, fiction. I appreciate fiction that is raw and brave, that sensitizes people towards truths they otherwise refuse to confront.
Portrait of a Young Moroccan Barber; So Why These White Weights; Four Little Diptychs; So, What’s in the Strip; At Mother Theresa’s,
Everybody gets the same cut, no matter the plea, the magazine coiffures thrust forth; it’s always just like his: pompadour full on top, tapered crew buzzed on all sides.
Essay on the Ideal (Poetry) Reader
If you think poetry is in the service of something I feel sorry for you.