34THPARALLEL INDIE LITMAG DIGITAL & PRINT
I started to see
some light in the world.
CUSTOM HEADPHONES BY MATTHEW MEAGHER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81
She captured the movement in still life.
ARTFUL BY KAREN BREMER MASUDA 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81
See if God is listening.
INTERNAL VOICES BY TRAVIS COBB 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81
What was she going to do with books like these? Read them?
KING PHILIP’S WAR BY ANKUR RAZDAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81
You and I are not as different as you may think.
MY DEAREST ANTHONY BY ZACH SWISS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81
34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81
CUSTOM HEADPHONES BY MATTHEW MEAGHER, INTERNAL VOICES BY TRAVIS COBB, ARTFUL BY KAREN BREMER MASUDA, MY DEAREST ANTHONY BY ZACH SWISS, KING PHILIP’S WAR BY ANKUR RAZDAN.
34THPARALLEL INDIE LITMAG DIGITAL & PRINT
This time, dammit, she was going to vote no matter what.
DEMOCRACY BY JOHN ALLISON 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 75
She was waiting on the bench at the bus stop a half-hour early. The bus stopped just past the bench and Waterloo saw on the back a pasty, pink, grinning man with perfect teeth shouting in a cartoon bubble, VOTE! IT’S YOUR RIGHT! IT’S YOUR DUTY! As Waterloo made her way to the bus door, walking carefully along the sidewalk to avoid the large cracks and stumbling and falling on her face, she mumbled, “Sure thing, you old fart.”
We are on a slow-mo plane crash to species extinction.
WATCHING THE APOCALYPSE BY ISMAIL IBRAHIM 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 68
I imagined a future where I would be a father. In the intoxicating moments between being awake and asleep, I slipped into a fantasy rife with pastoral images.
In the fantasy I’m sitting on a back porch watching my daughters play. Rosemary and Orchid run around the garden chasing each other, shrieking and laughing, muddying their clothes, playing games with rules inscrutable to parents. They radiate the joy of children, that silly, light kind of happiness, so immense that it makes the scene golden. The fantasy father version of me lies down to sleep and the me dreaming him goes out like a light.
Now, my pre-sleep imagination takes me somewhere else. I’m in a car. It’s hot. There’s a fire sweeping towards me but there’s gridlock and I can’t go anywhere. The AC sucks smoke into the car. I’m choked to death by the ash or the car catches fire and I’m incinerated.
Everything, she thought,
is an accident of where you are.
STEALING HOME BY KAY BONTEMPO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 78
I heard a woman say come here, Topaz.
FLOWERS IN THE HALLWAY BY ELLEN BLOOMENSTEIN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 79
MONDAY NIGHT AT THE BUTTE BY PAUL DRESMAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 79
Henry Vestine at the Butte was something to see. He could rip the standards behind his back, looking sideways into a mirror that wasn’t there. He did a workingman’s job on a slow blues: he’d twist it, turn it, moan it, groan it, and bring it back down. 77th greatest guitarist who ever lived (according to Rolling Stone), Vestine played lead guitar in Canned Heat. Their biggest hit Goin’ Up Country (l967) provides background music today for car commercials that use the landscape to sell the vehicle. The song was originally a call to return to nature and/or a young man’s decision to dodge the Vietnam War and head north to Canada “—gonna leave the USA.”
Please tell me the truth, whatever it may be.
YOUR TRAPEZE SWINGER BY NICOLE MODUGNO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 76
You will experience an electric shift.
HOROSCOPE BY JEAN COLONOMOS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 75
TECHNIQUE BY SETH GANNON 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 80
—and so hearing of the famous man’s death, they sat on the steps of the New York Public Library, between Patience and Fortitude, his legs stretched out across three or four steps and her feet on the same level as her butt so that her knees came to her chest, thank God for pants…
It’s the same earth again and again.
THE CULTIVATION OF LOVE BY CURT ERIKSEN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 05
34THPARALLEL INDIE LITMAG DIGITAL & PRINT
Forcing myself to breathe.
SMOKE BY JOSHUA FOUST 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 71
I used to ride my bike to the Safeway to buy food for dinner. It was a practical thing, you know? It was green, or whatever. But not any more. I’d think about it on the bus, forcing myself to breathe through a surgical mask.
Riding to the Safeway I would stand up from the seat, pushing my feet down on the pedals revelling in the power of my body.
But that joy is gone now. And I don’t know that I’ll ever get it back again. Not while I’m stuck here.
There is no such thing as lunar panels.
THE MOON MAN BY JAY BERMAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 79
I’d seen you before. Not you, but every other West Point-to-Kuwait-to-Some-Other-Place guy.
I KNEW YOU BY PHOEBE BROSNAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 76
Seeking someone who understands that opposites are often the same thing.
APPLY BY MATTHEW DALEY 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 74
SURFACE TENSION BY RICHARD RISEMBERG 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 69
“You just don’t give a damn about my feelings, do you?” Then she snarled: “You mangy cur.”
“If I’m a cur, that makes us a perfect match—bitch.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know—cur, bitch, they go together. We should get married and raise some pups.”
“Are you out of your mind? What are you talking about?”
I am not hikikomori!
CARVING A NICHE BY KAREN BREMER MASUDA 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 69
It’s not hard to be happy.
NOT HARD BY KIRSTEN JONES NEFF 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 08
