This collection to me categorizes various stages of life with each art piece charting the next step we take, whether with others or by ourselves. The movie that is each of our lives celebrates acting upon whatever our role demands,… Continue Reading
Andrew Markowiak’s first play, Lemon, produced by Filament Incubator, occurs in a world where entrepreneurial spirit stands in for self-realization and everyone watches out for their own asses before anyone else’s. It’s Shark Tank as society’s organizing principle, long… Continue Reading
When presented with people who live in a vacuum, the prudent thing is to determine just how far their limited worldviews extend. In the case of the characters in Tracy Letts’ 1993 debut, Killer Joe — adapted for the screen… Continue Reading
In 2005, my elder brother bought a few domains for ten dollars each. His goal was to invest in something that would be worthwhile, maybe even result in a big payoff in the future. I vaguely recall him asking me… Continue Reading
Cleo landed the job by telling the story of her childhood dog, Ruxpin, in the interview. Rux was a Great Dane that her father found at a shelter. He had been beaten and probably starved. He had one perfectly round… Continue Reading
Three days ago, coyotes broke into the new blue sheen of Superstore’s tinfoil exterior. They slunk like transients in through the back and Corporate became clam-like, grasping for self-preservation. Only the bare minimum of press conferences were held, and no… Continue Reading
She said she wanted me to go to Portland with her. She said that she really wanted me to come. She barely knew me, and we’d hardly ever spoken. She said that she was going in April, and until four… Continue Reading
I. Statement of the Problem They were everywhere, hundreds if not thousands of them, speckling the kitchen counter and walls, basking in the tepid leftovers on the unwashed plates and bowls, sunning themselves on the wandering Jews, the devil’s ivies,… Continue Reading
We crawl along a wooden plank, red-orange rug of molten lava bubbles inches beneath our palms. We grip engraved pillars to keep ourselves steady, thumbing grooves. Rug-burnt knees slip, hands fall to grip socked feet, uncles grumble. They play cards… Continue Reading
My sister’s girlfriend’s grandmother’s apartment building has a lot of signs on it telling me my truck’s parked illegally. No sign of my sister or her girlfriend. The clock in the dash says they’re twenty-three minutes late. My brain says… Continue Reading