Blog| Gravity's Rainbow, lol, Paris Hilton, Thomas Pynchon|Leave a comment
The Yiddish Policemen’s Union
by Michael Chabon
Night is an orange smear over Sitka, a compound of fog and the light of sodium-vapor streetlamps. It has the translucence of onions cooked in chicken fat. The lamps of the Jews stretch from the slope Mount Edgecombe in the west, over the seventy-two infilled islands of the Sound, across the Shvartser-Yam, Halibut Point, South Sitka, and the Nachtasyl, across Harkavy and the Untershtot, before they are snuffed in the east by Baranof range. On Oysshtelung Island, the beacon at the tip of the Safety Pin–sole remnant of the World’s Fair–blinks out its warning to airplanes or yids. Landsman can smell fish offal from the canneries, grease from the fry pits at Pearl of Manila, the spew of taxis, an intoxicating bouquet of fresh hat from Grinspoon’s Felting two blocks away.
Fiction Quoted| Michael Chabon, place, The Yiddish Policemen's Union|Leave a comment
May We Shed These Human Bodies
by Amber Sparks
Our Fiction Editor has her debut collection of short stories on the way from Curbside Splendor.
Contributors Elsewhere| Amber Sparks, Curbside Splendor, May We Shed These Human Bodies, self-promotion|Leave a comment