. . . one of the heresiarchs of Uqbar had declared that mirrors and copulation are abominable, because they increase the number or men.
Stories
Díre McCain
It was a summer weeknight. Kiki and I were at Carl’s Jr., slurping down milkshakes, when in walked two men who had to be pushing thirty. Both were tall and moderately inked. The brawny bull had his head cleanly shaven, but it was rawboned cat who caught my dexter and sinister.
Drew Hubner
It started in a pool hall. Juan Colon had a girl friend, and so did the cop, Jimmy O’Donnelly. The problem was it was the same girl.
Mark Netter
It’s 1977 and four upstate-New York high school students who have formed their town’s first punk rock band are in NYC together for the first night of their lives.
City of Strangers
I met Dupont at the Bar X, a totally anonymous-looking place with tinted windows wedged in-between a McDonald’s and a pizzeria. I might never have noticed it had it not been for the neon Bud sign in the window and the sandwich board on the sidewalk advertising a happy hour: two beers for a dollar. I went in without any expectations.
Rob Roberge
I met johnny mo’s father only a few hours before he killed himself at the end of what had already been a long day. I hadn’t seen much of Johnny Mo after we’d had the trouble in Las Vegas. After that guy Mike’s crazy father shattered my ankle with a .22 in the drug deal with Johnny Mo and Mike.
Díre McCain
As luck would have it, tecate flats turned out to be a goldmine. Throughout the duration of my addiction, I had a fortuitous knack for attracting people—more specifically, men—who not only facilitated my habit, but subsidized it. I’ve often wondered how long my junkie career would have lasted if I’d been forced to work at it.
Díre McCain
It was a crisp Sunday afternoon. Mia and I were wandering around the neighborhood, pilfering change out of unlocked cars, when a black limousine pulled up. Down rolled the driver’s window, revealing a marginally creepy yet seemingly friendly face. “Hello, girls,” the face’s mouth said, through a thick, unidentifiable accent. “Hey,” Mia and I replied [...]
Ron Kolm
So we’re about to be hit by hurricane Irene, alright! And, at the same time, Carl Watson spends the day in an upstate hospital with something akin to colitis – so it goes. Carl is the very person who would give both his health problems and the weather the finger. Since we can’t actually watch [...]
Michael Aanavi
I’m an old time smugglin’ man, I know just what to do. I sell guns to the Arabs, I sell dynamite to the Jews. —Tim Hardin I first met Ray soon after he and my mother started seeing each other—although “seeing each other” makes it sound as if there was dating and such involved, rather [...]
