Tag Archives: Youth

Clove Cigarettes Are the Fountain of Youth (If they Don’t Kill You First)

Clove Cigarettes Are the Fountain of Youth (If they Don’t Kill You First)

CREATIVE NONFICTION by

If I remember correctly (and who can remember anything anymore) I smoked my first cigarette on the lawn of a church down the street from the school gym, after escaping the insufferable first dance of 9th grade, when I decided that school dances were lame and I’d rather be doing cool shit.more

Mermaid and Seaworm

Mermaid and Seaworm

FICTION by

She said her hair was red as blood, and he said it already was the color of a penny and he liked to picture it the way it was.more

Remote Controls and Menus (XVII)

Remote Controls and Menus (XVII)

FICTION by

Things that go hand and hand – like professional wrestling and pornography.more

Vigil

Vigil

FICTION by

A story about the knockout game, and watching.more

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young R.E.M. Fan

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young R.E.M. Fan

CREATIVE NONFICTION by

“Being out of my mom’s house for the first time, surrounded by more cosmopolitan people I couldn’t relate to, deeply unsure of myself, I bonded with these albums. They told me there was a world out there not just for me to revere but emulate.”more

BULLshot: Ryan Werner

BULLshot: Ryan Werner

GENRE NON-BINARY by

Wisconsinite and author of “Go Says No” talks about arcades and life on the farmmore

Everything Far Away Up Close

Everything Far Away Up Close

FICTION by

“Grandpa Bub grew up in a generation without alcoholics. There were plenty of winos, boozers, lushes and drunks, but that was back when alcohol had personality; it was your drinking that defined youmore

Don’t Mess

Don’t Mess

FICTION by

“Here’s how to think of the double arm-bar: imagine you’re lying face-down in the street and some roid-ripped police officer’s got his knee jammed between your shoulder-blades. Then he takes his nightstick andmore

Lodgers

Lodgers

FICTION by

His father remained at the table, worrying the carrot from between his teeth with his dirty fork. His mother curled a solider of bread and sopped up the last of the lamb’s blood from her platemore