“Paying for his breakfast would require the last of the cash in his wallet. After that, he had only $1.75 left in a Prosperity Bank checking account, which he’d opened roughly eight years earlier. But Averill wasn’t worried about money. The bank was less than a block away, and when he finished eating he was […]
michelleweber
Power to the People
With Warren Jeffs in jail, Hildale, Utah has an opportunity to become a real town that serves and protects all its residents, no matter their faiths.
You Know the Lorena Bobbitt Story. But Not All of It.
Before she was a punchline, she was a 24-year-old Ecuadorean immigrant who was subject to years of domestic violence, including rape, at her husband’s hands.
I’ve Been Committed To A Psych Ward Three Times — And It Never Helped
“As Bly’s anecdotes, and my own, indicate, a primary feature of the experience of staying in a psychiatric hospital is that you will not be believed about anything. A corollary to this feature: Things will be believed about you that are not at all true.”
Did Your Walls Keep Them Out, or Lock You In?
Gabriela Garcia’s short story about a women fighting a cold war with her new neighbor is deeply political without explicitly being about politics at all.
Into the Dark
There were four options for getting the trapped Thai soccer players out of the flooded cave: the unrealistic one, the deadly one, the torturous one, and the mad one. Sometimes, madness works.
Dance Battle! Meet the Warring Milli Vanilli of Italo Disco
It was not a high point for music; even Italians try not to remember Italo Disco. Den Harrow was one of its biggest stars… but who is Den Harrow, exactly?
Without a Trace: Missing, In an Age of Mass Displacement
Masood Hotak left Afghanistan in December 2015, hoping to make it to Europe. On January 3, 2016, he posted on Facebook that he’d reached the Greek island of Samos. And then… nothing. His big brother Javed has traveled thousands of miles trying to find him.
Wayne Byerly’s Redemption Through Ratting
“Snitches get stitches” is a horrifying understatement.
How Virginia Woolf Taught Me to Mourn
“I couldn’t shake that crystalline, hyperaware feeling one gets on important occasions—on birthdays, for instance, or on losing one’s virginity. My father is dead, I said to myself, my father is dead. Again and again I said it, and still I failed to grasp what it meant.”
