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My love, don’t let anyone in.

I HEARD HIS VOICE BY ATASH YAGHMAIAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 70

Something strange happened to me. I heard the Muslim call to prayer, but we were somewhere in the Lower East Side of New York City and there were no minarets. I strained my ears to listen. Children’s voices seemed to be coming from outside the window, though we were on the fourth floor. I let the sounds wash over me. Then the deep, soft voice of my Uncle Hossain filled my ears: “Azizam, movazeb baash kasi nayad too. My love, don’t let anyone in.”

Darlin’ it’s about time.

ROCK STAR AT LA SCALA BY DC DIAMONDOPOLOUS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 70

Nana would have been pleased with my La Scala scheme. My happiest memories had been when we picnicked along the Susquehanna River. Nature and its integrity. That’s the life to live, far away from illusions. My sophisticated grandmother, who behind closed doors smoked thin cigars, swore, and taught me to play poker, would have said, “Darlin’, it’s about time.”

You’re telling me you’ve eaten the original On the Road?

THE LOTUS EATERS BY TRAVIS DUNCAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 70

You’ve masticated, digested, and shat out a priceless work of literature and you’ve filmed it? This is really too much. I’m sorry, this is my last day here and, while this has been very entertaining, I really need to get back to work.