by Jo-Anne Rosen He knew it would be a mistake to let Bella drive. She was hard on cars and his was past its prime. “You don’t want to drive all day, Charles,” she said. “How far is it to Joshua Tree? You’ll need a break.” “I’ll be fine,” he said. “You need a holiday
Summer 2023 Dedicated to Nicholas Johnson and Maureen Holm, co-founders of BigCityLit To the Lighthouse by Nicholas Johnson Poetry Fiction Nonfiction Reviews
by Bill Kitcher As I often do, I was sitting at the bar, writing. I thought I had a pretty good idea so I was focused, and didn’t notice as the bar filled up and I was surrounded. When I looked up to order another beer, I noticed the crowd, particularly the guy sitting beside
by Michelle Cacho-Negrete We were Poland. We were Romania. We were Ukraine We were Hungary. We were Russia. We arrived in New York with ragged clothes, a swirl of languages, and our babushkas and yarmulkas and kasha and borsch and pierogi and cozonac and palinka and our dreams and nightmares, and later, tattoos on our
by Thaddeus Rutkowski The first sign was a brownish-gray blur shooting across our floor. It went so fast we couldn’t tell if it was a living thing or just a trick of the eye—a shadow made by the batting of an eyelid. Over the next few days, however, the blur slowed down, as if the
by Sarah Sarai i. Someone is tapping on the professional wood of Lucy’s professional workstation on the eighteenth floor of the professional law firm. She looks up to see a tall, skinny man, a legal-looking man, a lawyer, in fact. He wears a loose black suit, a suit not picked off an $80-or-less rack, yet
by Melinda Thomsen Inspired by Henri Toulouse-Lautrec’s Jane Avril Dancing (1891-1892) Henri hangs out in the corner drinking absinthe and sketching. Look at this sketch of me in lines. He throws lines down as fast as he tosses drinks down his throat. Remember the famous poster he did called La Goulue? Now his placards sell
by Les Bohem “Someone like you should not be allowed to start any fires.” — David Bowie, “Win” My friend Peter Woolcott was incredibly good-looking. The great grandson of a duke, he had the classic features of a prince, with a combination of arrogance and vulnerability that was amazingly appealing. He did not carry himself
by Cullen McMahon What is the word that describes the feeling you have when, on returning home Mother’s Day morning with bagels and coffee and, on the passenger seat beside you, an orchid (the last available orchid, in fact, $89.50, “a beaut” said the sales girl), you park in the garage and, because the garage