On Sundays in the early 90s, before Pulp Fiction was filmed there, you could find me and my mother at… Read more The Anti-Dream
On Sundays in the early 90s, before Pulp Fiction was filmed there, you could find me and my mother at… Read more The Anti-Dream
It was unusual, to be sure. And Dr. Woolridge had certainly never seen anything like it in any of her… Read more The Depressive With A High Libido
In Turkey, rugs are high currency. They’re prized and valued with the same ardor Americans might cherish their Apple products… Read more The Rug Salesman
Asher had always been averse to throwing parties. He was of the belief that it would, inevitably, no matter how… Read more “Asleep” At A New Year’s Eve Party
We didn’t know how we were going to do it. If it had ever been done (our research later revealed… Read more The Casual Commandeering of a Gondola
“I don’t know, I just can’t picture you in Paris,” she noted with her usual tinge of passive aggressiveness. That… Read more Picture This
He was not Percival’s–that’s what Andrew had cruelly decided to change his name to–first choice. Nor was Percival the first… Read more The Curse of the Short-Legged Dog and the Long-Legged Owner
He had but one task. As usual, he couldn’t help but fuck it up, fall slightly into a metaphorical K-hole… Read more Une Demande de Photo
Something in her knew it was going to be ill-advised to leave the arrangements for the lodging to Lucien. It… Read more Alone, Together at the Aparthotel
It was one of those peak Brooklyn moments, she supposed, entering some Puerto Rican-run shoe repair store that was actually… Read more Too Much Flannel Becomes Beige