Nonfiction 5.3

Three Sundays by Ray Scanlon

Three Sundays by Ray Scanlon

Nonfiction, Vol. 5.3, Sept. 2011 A man and a boy often show up at my Sunday afternoon train watching. The boy always holds his hands at chest level, close to his body, except when he hops around and flaps his arms. I wonder who’s the […]

Bystander by Guinevere Lee

Bystander by Guinevere Lee

Nonfiction, Vol. 5.3, Sept. 2011 If you are standing in the elbow of the staircase on a particular day you will see a tall, white-haired man placing thick books in special arrangements on a table below. A furry ball of a Pomeranian scampers on the […]

Garden of Live Flowers by William Henderson

Garden of Live Flowers by William Henderson

Nonfiction, Vol. 5.3, Sept. 2011 Erin and Intern come to my room and ask me if I’m ready to begin the partial hospital program. Erin punches a code into three different doors to get to the floor where the partial hospital program takes place. Later […]

Setting the Scene, or, Two Authors in Search of a Character and Some Action by Jacqueline Doyle

Setting the Scene, or, Two Authors in Search of a Character and Some Action by Jacqueline Doyle

Nonfiction, Vol. 5.3, Sept. 2011 It was a rainy day in September. This opening seems inauspicious, possibly inaccurate. Can she remember such a day? So she begins again. It was a sweltering day in August. Temperatures had been in the hundreds for twelve days now. […]

Sprinkler Hose: Something Something Something Phallus Joke by Brian Anderson

Sprinkler Hose: Something Something Something Phallus Joke by Brian Anderson

Nonfiction, Vol. 5.3, Sept. 2011 Sitting in an oddly spotless dorm room on the sixth floor of the Centro de Treinamento dos Missionarios in Sao Paulo, Brazil, I was amazed to find my friends engaging in an open discussion on masturbation. Our open window invited […]

An Essay on Craft by Brian Anderson

An Essay on Craft by Brian Anderson

Nonfiction, Vol. 5.3, Sept. 2011 Kristin threw away a piece of paper that I had scribbled something on. I’m a writer. That’s what I do. I scribble shit on gas station receipts. I just spent an hour searching through the garbage that I dumped out […]