.................Weariness alone is enough to bring disillusionment for he cannot in the end escape the futility
.................of an endless ...
Choosing a Greek Island: Durkheim’s Dilemma by Mary Patrice Erdmans
LAR Online, Nonfiction
It’s trite to write about the sensation of having a body, how it slices you up the same way a mandoline does, quickly and imperceptibly until you’re standing at the kitchen counter with blood in your coleslaw. ...
Artifact by Silas Jones
LAR Online, Nonfiction
A banging—glass rattling against glass.
At the end of the ...
When My Eighth Grader Asks “What’s Worse Than Ghosting?” by Kirsten Kaschock
LAR Online, Nonfiction
1.
A friend of mine wears a shirt on our weekend runs that says, “I run so I can eat.” It’s a fair reason, though most of us would need at least a dozen shirts to explain why we venture out onto ice-caked ...
Why I Run by Joshua Doležal
LAR Online, Nonfiction
In March 2020 my daughter Sophia, husband Alex, and eleven-month-old Ella fled their apartment in Brooklyn and moved in with me on Long Island. Most mornings I put Ella in a Bjorn and walked to Peconic Sound ...
Your Ham is a Pig by Caroline Sutton
LAR Online, Nonfiction
“You ain’t never shotgunned a beer before?”
S peered over at my averted eyes, but I didn’t answer his question because no, I had never shoved a key into the side of a beer can and chugged before. I had ...
I Am a Martian by Karen Fischer
LAR Online, Nonfiction
The men’s competition came first, and now it’s our turn. I’m the woman in the red paisley summer dress and impractical sandals staring directly over the lip of my stein, past the crowd into the glossy leaves ...
The Last Resort by L.I. Henley
LAR Online, Nonfiction
When my mother and I first moved to Ojai, we lived in a cabin up Sisar Canyon. We had been nomads, living briefly in Athens, Greece with my father, then in Oakland with my Aunt Melissa, then in San Rafael with my ...
Monkey Flower by Mira Skalkottas
LAR Online, Nonfiction
All my dreams end in that apartment, even four years later. I can still feel that thick tile on my feet, the clink of the bathroom door handle closing, the dusty dry of the stucco walls. I could find my way back, ...
Budapest, Lover by Bekah Waalkes
LAR Online, Nonfiction
