by Jennifer Spiegel moss malaria butterscotch Ndbele I wake to the sound of roosters crowing. Outside, chickens peck the ground’jerking their chicken bodies here and there. I’m under a mothy blanket that makes my hair itch. When I reach for my toiletries,...
by Jennifer Spiegel Tribal tattoo on the small of Zachary’s back. I trace my index finger over its gray edges. Tracing it, claiming it. He sprawls out on our bed, face down, nearly naked. Boxers half-off, arms outstretched. ‘My world is crashing down on...
by Jennifer Spiegel nipples beads mealie pap The television is on and there are reports of war. Zaire will be the Congo by the time I leave South Africa. Everyone sits around, drinking coffee, reading books, playing cards, rolling joints, writing memoirs. Everyone in...
by Gabriella Herkert My the world has changed. We’ve gone to war. Dot.com has gone bust. As each of our political or cultural icons has fallen in the path of bankruptcy, scandal or SEC investigation I couldn’t help thinking about the moment of innocence...
by Jim Ruland For the sex-starved sailors of the seventh fleet all roads lead to Tijuana, and no one loved TJ more than Carter. Everybody knew he had a thing for Mexican whores, and whenever someone accompanied Carter to TJ, they always came back with sordid stories...
Ed Peaco One summer night in the not-too-distant but long-forgotten past, when Max Headroom was a cult hit on television and the home-improvement boom was in its infancy, a dense whine haunted Duane Dyer’s dreams. As his sleep receded, the noise grew louder, and...
