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Finer Things

Adam Dorsheimer · Fiction · November 2026
IThe driver was right on time; it was Max who was early. A casual observer might’ve seen him there, standing in front of what must’ve been the strangest-looking building in the Basin, and they might’ve thought the damp rings of perspiration under his arms were merely a consequence of the late-summer humidity. They would’ve been wrong. In fact, Max was engaged in something of a fistfight with his sympathetic nervous system, the entirety of his willpower focused on fighting the urge to run back inside. But whether he liked it or not—and Max himself was still not sure of where he stood on the matter—the banquet was rapidly approaching.As for the strangeness of the building (his home, though Max was still not used to thinking of it as such), well, he could blame Linwood for that. Bob Linwood was a prolapsed sphincter of a man who oversaw the Department of Middle Management at Max’s company.…
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Maryam Takalou — Mixed Media
Maryam Takalou · Mixed Media · November 2026
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From the archive
Cathriona Lafferty · 2012 · Poetry
A recovered text from the first iExile body — returned to circulation, not as nostalgia, but because it still burns.
Returned to circulation
2012 — To Live and Die in L.A.
Alex Mascarenhas · Essays
2018 — The Umbrella
Lifeasapoet · Poetry
2010 — Fragile Ebb
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Bulă, or How We Invented Quantum
Bulă, or How We Invented Quantum
Jaia Papitz
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