SKIPPER AND KEN VISIT BARBIE’S PAD BY STEVEN MCBREARTY 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 113

Okay, Skipper said, so who is this dude you’ve got me hooked up with anyway?

LOLA BY ELLEN BURNS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 113

He engraved trophies for tee-ball championships and outstanding choral students. He would bring home a trophy with a defective engraving and ask, “Can you see it?”

ROOM FOR ERROR BY PATRICK CONNOLLY 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 113

Considering the hotel’s rickety elevator, cracked cement walls, worn-down carpeting sprouting mould, our room could have been much worse. We had a double bed, comically firm. There was a TV with a range of State-sponsored cable channels. “We’re going to be really happy here,” I said to Angela. We just might get something out of it. Maybe some romantic couple time, or a chance to get some work done. This might be the perfect place to write after all.

I LOVE WHAT YOU’VE DONE WITH THE KITCHEN BY SARA KRAHN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 112

She wants everyone to treat her like the Queen of Sheba. She’s also into Wicca. So, you know, she’s like that.

FRANNY OF AVENUE A  BY JENNIFER ANNE MOSES 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 112

Maybe she wasn’t a writer at all but rather a dreamer, a wannabe, a fantasist. Also, she didn’t like her boyfriend.

ZHTWEET CHARITY BY BEN UMAYAM 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 111

Why doesn’t she go back to the cathedral with the other beggars? I am so close to making my airfare. She is spoiling it all, spoiling the whole thing.

WARHOL/WAYNE/WEST BY ZYG FURMANIUK 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 109

You know Warhol did a Batman film in 1964? So this was it. Batman/Dracula, filmed on rooftops near the Factory with underground film-maker Jack Smith in the lead. Unfinished. What of it?

THE FLATNESS OF HYPER-REALISM BY ALLISON RICHARDS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 110

We viewers cannot paint perfect figures, so we don’t make art. We don’t have the time, so we don’t make art. We watch a video on TikTok and the end result looks more real than our goddamn reflection in the mirror, and so we don’t make art.

PLAYLIST FOR THE WORST DAYS BY JAWNO OKHIULU 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 108

A mix of rhythm, funk, soul, and soapbox prophecy cut with love, grief, rage, and acceptance.

DOWN THE ROAD A PIECE BY BERNIE HAFELI 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 11

She blew him a kiss. It was like he could see it rise above the smoke and neon and glide lazily toward the stage, a rose petal in the evening breeze. Momentarily he stopped strumming, reached up and caught it.

THE TRAGEDY OF THE ROSEMARKIE SEAL BY EMILY NEVES 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 103

I turn my back to the cave wall and look out. The slope of the hill and a little green bramble with a spray of yellow flowers partially obscures one side of the opening and on the other side I see the green-gray sea reaching to the horizon. I think, I could live here if I had to. 

DEAD CAT BY MELVIN STERNE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 96

What’s the most likely ending? What’s the worst-case scenario? What’s the best ending? There’s a billion potential endings. Pick one.

MACHINE GIRL BY REBECCA EGAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 96

I want a signal that screams I made it through. On my own. I found a way out.

A SCUT OF EARTH BY ELIZABETH KIRSCHNER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 93

Bean whispered, you could place your hand in a ripe fruit and withdraw a beautiful afternoon. He said, “Whatever happens happens for the good.”

LOVE AND PHILODENDRON BY PATRICK SEAMAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 83

It was a quick walk down to the little creek that ran through your father’s backyard. We would kick off our shoes and ball our socks into our pockets and feel which rocks were the slimiest and search for crayfish with our toes. I remember you wore my hat and laughed as we walked home hand in hand and I told you to keep it and you did.

STEALING HOME BY KAY BONTEMPO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 78

Two bell peppers, Muenster cheese. Cauliflower, a pack of Newports, Tampax. Martinelli’s apple juice. Paper towels two-ply. English Breakfast tea. Boil-in-a-bag rice, paper clips, ramen noodles. Maybe some ice cream if there was money left over. America’s Choice vanilla, eaten straight from the carton. It wouldn’t be bad. With an uncomfortable pop, he pulled out of her and lay beside her, breathing hard. It was 11.52pm. She wondered if the Shop’n’Save would even be open.