On the bench they sat in a single row, working their marbles. The bench stretched in either direction for miles–perhaps an infinity–and to each inhabitant was allotted a single marble, a clear sphere speckled with dots and striated with lines that the individual rolled over in their palm, trying to wipe clean. Over time, this… Continue reading The marble-workers
Category: fiction
The short, miserable life of an empath
By the time she reached middle school, the empath had learned of the horrors visited upon Hiroshima and Nagasaki at the close of WWII–hence, she developed radiation poisoning, even though both geography and temporality vastly distanced her from those places. Too, she had learned of Fritz Haber, Zyklon B, WWI’s trenches, and the burnings of… Continue reading The short, miserable life of an empath
Zen bootyism and the case of the disappearing cheese
There once was a monk who taught exclusively by way of flatulence. “Master, what do I do when the mind overwhelms the heart?,” one of his students would ask him, and a toot would be the reply. “Master, why does the mind create suffering?” Toot-toot. “Master, what do I do when the longing for sex… Continue reading Zen bootyism and the case of the disappearing cheese
Jackson Holzberg Buckley 