Making its way toward 59th Street, the subway was but a metal serpent slinking beneath Manhattan’s Upper West Side. Moments before, the doors of the 1 Train had slid open and four or five sleepy passengers emerged, settling with their foil-wrapped deli lunches onto blue plastic seats. It was the
Irrelevance—like its more evil and twisted stepsister, irreverence—is a term not often price-tagged to the present of love. But in a recent story published by Man Repeller’s Amelia Diamond, the word is affixed to that very topic, more specifically to the idea of love’s most debilitating strain: amore unrequitedare (or something Latin-sounding
Rat-a-tat-tat went longish nails on old wood. She sat at the time-abandoned Rathskeller Pub, waiting. Three tall jack-and-cokes into her Sunday afternoon, the strange man finally arrived, a wiry figure dappled in late-day shadows. The man looked almost wizardly with a long, white beard and smooth, white hair woven into
By Melissa Kandel The subway car came to an abrupt halt. “Signal Street!” With a polite nod to the plumpish redhead whose morose stares he had endured for the larger part of his 57-minute trip from Eagleshead to Signal Street—“So sorry miss, didn’t mean to bump you there,”—Daniel Plinkers departed
By Melissa Kandel Of all the details to remember, her hands were still the clearest in his mind. Unpolished nails of otherworldly innocence, intoxication by way of ten fingers and smooth skin and a wrist circled with Rolex Sky-Dweller gold, limited edition. Back to her hands. What did he later
“ … and, should the symptoms of sleeplessness persist, a patient may attempt any number of psychologically soothing exercises … lulling the mind to a more restful state of being … the most popular and effective of these called ‘counting sheep,’ wherein the patient, with eyes closed, begins enumerating sheep
Maybe I’ve just got a bad case of the Monday blues but I’m feeling an epic wave of blah-ness tonight. Scampering my fingertips across the Internet isn’t helping either; the place is stockpiled with an overwhelming prevalence of shiny stuff and it’s kiiiind of boring in its glitter-coated, uninspiring perfection.
Just because you’re a needle in a haystack or a pea beneath a thick mattress doesn’t mean that needle-you won’t be found or pea-you can’t be felt. Here’s the proof: A few days ago I received a surprising email from Michelle, the self-proclaimed Chief Semicolon Advocate at WordPress; I use