239 April, 2017

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At Allas Outdoor Bar

Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

I devour dialogues of sunset dwellers, the romantics sprawled on canvas loungers overlooking South Harbor. A turquoise pool ripples between the Baltic and us. X-girls chorus, “Yo, yo,” sipping wine and Estonian beer. White lights strung through the railing glow strong after my third drink. …

The Ochre Hotel of Stockholm

Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

  Spray us yellow so that we stand out from the red hotels claiming Gamla Stan. We were the second boarding house to hang a vacancy sign, and that first one went kaput before the Great War. A single bomb struck during WWII, shattering windows …

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MARLENA by Julie Buntin

Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

          “Tell me what you can’t forget, and I’ll tell you who you are” is the that opens Marlena, the astonishing first novel by New York-based writer Julie Buntin. In the form of a confessional narrative, Buntin writes about the kind …

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Hide and Seek

Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

  Once she got home, she climbed into the wardrobe. Closing the door behind her so that no light could reach in, she settled down on her side upon the wooden shelf, usually saved for shoes but now empty. They’d bought a new shoe-rack a …

As the waves make towards the pebbl’d shore

Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

A cold Sunday in November. Snowflakes drop from the gray sky and swirl about. There is a long red brick building by the side of a country road. The interior is almost like a hospital, with nurses and medical equipment in the hallways, but not …

The Spider with Seven Legs

Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

The afternoon light penetrates the parlour curtains and irritates me. Flickering on my eyelids, the red-white on and off wakes me. Red. Heat. White. Cool. The custard-thick air is hard to breathe. The last strands of sleep drift from my body. It’s hot. There’s that …

A Peashooter on a Battleship

Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

Benicio’s near-death experience didn’t come with blurry, never-ending tunnels in decorative shades of pearly-white, nor did the whole of his past life flash through his mind in the space of a nanosecond. He did, however, have the time to register a mental expletive and to …

Vernacularism’s Manifesto

Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

No more mixing it up. No more starting in the middle. No more, ‘them and us.’ In his own time, Cartier stood outside the gray army barracks in Battersea, London, and looked up at the castellated battlements of Marcus Hately’s mayoral campaign office. No more …