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He lies in bed for hours every night, thinking, until finally he falls asleep and finds himself sitting on a cracked wooden stool behind the curtain at somebody's club. Fender Strat slung at his waist. He stares ahead, face unmoving, chain-smoking Camels, waiting. Long…
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85132
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He never mentioned his song “Breadfruit” fell from the sky, landed in his hand. The song climbed the charts: most downloaded, most played, most everything.
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3420
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She closed her eyes and fell into a drum roll. Trust now and let go.
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95310
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It is your music that makes me want to crack open my ribcage and rip out my heart as it still beats, to cauterize my carotids, and shove the mechanical insides of a clock into my thoracic cavity.
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98420
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A rock group named Stuck Gas Pedal. Another named Tweezer. A group of young punk-rockers wearing neckerchiefs named Mein Kampfire. But wait, there’s more.
A song called “We Were Being Facetious,” co-written by them all.
Lost Flyswatter. That
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29321
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I think of that story, "Bruce Springsteen and the Story of Us."
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125000
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This is how we catch up. I write something down, and you read me quietly. In a year's time you will remind me, though I would have forgotten. I check to see if maybe you have put up a new song, every once in a while, but you don't sing as well as you used to.What has…
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125821
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‘Miguel! A pint of Guinness, please!'
I might as well have asked for his mother's immortal soul. A smile as benign as a stiletto. But he served a clean and tidy pint.
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18200
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“Everybody’s seen Tom Waits,” Chris said. “Everybody. His son’s a real asshole. I can’t remember his name, so let’s call him Fred. My friend saw Fred walking with his Dad, in Orinda or somewhere, and was like, fuck you Fred! And fuck yo
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109500
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And there sat one man. Searching for words and solace. The silence returned and the colors peeled off from the walls. Darkness returned with fledgling light. He threw back his head and filled the emptiness with his laugh. He laughed in mirth and in misery
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110550
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The room smelled of an old rank basement. Boys and girls of all ages crowded the stage. The room was dark with only a few lights that hung from above keeping the crowd dark and silhouetting Chris on drums.
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127893
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There is only one other person in the pool, in the adjacent lane. I stop to adjust my goggles and notice his waterproof ear buds.
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12400
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It's been nearly a full week since getting rid of our cable. As my lady put it, "It feels good not to be connected to the social unconscious." Do I feel like less of a programmed drone? Only to a certain extent.
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6840
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Yet there are still those people who form energetic interventions to save the powerless, the wretched ones who are patently alive, and by that measure…barely visible.
Our small saviors pay a large price...
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125121
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“The Boy from Thuringia” is part of a series of stories collectively called The History of Adoption. In it, a middle-aged man sets out rather obsessively to write a comprehensive history of the adopted child. In his attempts to finally begin this im
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