Non-Stop

Bentley and his crew—five basketball players—step toward me. Two sit down, one on either side me. I should have sat on the edge. Their knees rest about 4 inches taller than mine and 3 inches longer. My head reaches their shoulders. I’m like a White Castle slider and they’re BK quarter pounders. Bentley’s standing over me like a kraken.

“Look at you, lame-o. You are so fucking gross. You know why? You want to know why? I’ll tell you why. Because you’re horny. That’s right. Bitch, it’s Thursday and you’ve got a green stripe in your shirt. Green on Thursday means you’re horny. You disgust me. Don’t you get any? I get some. I get lots. I ain’t got no reason to wear green on Thursdays.”

I looked down my shirt hanging over my concave, wire-hanger frame. “No way man, the light’s all funny down here. It’s not green it’s yellow.” And then I add, “What are you colorblind?” I bend my head back to see his face. Hair is sprouting from his chin like a few misplaced pubes.

By Willow Duttge

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Killed With Kindness»

Kings Borough Jury Duty: Episode #4
On the 24th floor of the Kings County federal court house, Julie walked to a wall of windows that looked over Central Brooklyn. Even though the windows were tinted gray, she could tell it was sunny. She believed it was the first stereotypical spring day of the season: warm sun, cool air. She imagined taking that first invigorating, deep breath of fresh air, the type of inhalation that enlivened her lungs after hours of canned, stale air, the type she took after opening the front door of a 747, the type she would take right now if she could.

Lasting Impressions»

“There’s nothing for me here,” Rose says as she rests her forehead in her right hand. Sitting at their pea green kitchen table, her elbow propped on the edge, Rose’s head wobbles almost dizzily as her tired wrist struggles with the weight. Ralph’s butternut-squash head hangs down.

Cataclysm»

I awoke to a few powerful jabs in my ribs that I momentarily thought were from a perturbed angel trying to shoo me off his heavenly cloud with a baton. When I turned, I realized my girlfriend Kelly was poking me sharply with her bony left elbow.

By Thomas Lee

Elevator Etiquette»

Two heavy metal doors slide open to expose yet another nondescript office elevator bank. Jack the New Building Manager steps in to the freshly renovated elevator car holding rolled-up blue prints. The four already-present passengers reflexively shuffle a few inches to give him room. One of them, Mark the Guy Who Even Uses His Laptop on the Subway, is holding a laptop open and up to his face.