Behind the ancient, artisanal smoke shop – with its rose-scented rolling papers and cardamom-infused oils and hand-engraved boxes of imported tobacco – where, on this particular Sunday, a teenager has already taken a lethal dose of oxycontin and a … Read the rest
The teenage girl at the end of the world gathers all of her textbooks, all of them — pre-calc, chemistry, world history — and burns them on the neighbors’ patio. The … Read the rest
The fact Hazel never had a momma makes me feel better about the fact that I don’t speak to mine much anymore. I overshare stories of my childhood all through sophomore year … Read the rest
She showed me her palms. Small and white.
At six years old, it was the butterflies. Collected in an old VHS case and placed, casually, in the freezer.
Then of course the baby bird, zipped up in a sandwich … Read the rest
It was summer, and the lake at the end of Emma’s house stank of the heat, the moon hung fat and sickly. Emma spent her days sticking her head in the water for as long as possible, her body, … Read the rest
Daddy, won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County
Down by the Green River, where Paradise lay?
I’m sorry, my son, but you’re too late in asking,
Mr. Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away.
—John Prine, “Paradise”
