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The house was expensive, endless, and normally boring. Cheap 1990s fake-hardwood lofts, fake antique ceiling fans. But it was the time of the great competition, and every room was full with NBA stars. Shaq was downstairs, sprawled out on a sectional, but it was a discount Shaq—the Shaq from Minecraft. Continue Reading

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When the smoke cleared, I knew my essay was done. I was writing on a prairie cabin’s porch. I set down my pen and poured a few drinks, then lit cigars and let them burn like candles for an hour. Satisfied, I called a friend and told him I wasContinue Reading

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Scene: An enormous rusted steel Möbius strip like Richard Serra would make.  Characters: Fourteen on the strip & two voiceovers off-stage. Also: a donut.  Movement: Everybody is on the strip in the strip just strip strip strip making love to the strip raking flesh on the strip staying true toContinue Reading

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A husband and wife lived in a house infected with a machine virus. The virus made inorganic matter reconstruct itself—every time it removed one part of the house, it added an element elsewhere. Nothing was lost—just rearranged. The house was perfectly livable; the couple simply switched rooms every few weeks.Continue Reading

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The house was expensive, endless, and normally boring. Cheap 1990s fake-hardwood lofts, fake antique ceiling fans. But it was the time of the great competition, and every room was full with NBA stars. Shaq was downstairs, sprawled out on a sectional, but it was a discount Shaq—the Shaq from Minecraft. Continue Reading

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I attended a paint party at an aunt’s house with my boyfriend Stephen. Everyone was following the newest fashion: leave everything in the house where it is and cover it in paint. We watched in awe as they dumped bright green paint over a pile of magazines on the kitchenContinue Reading

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…eyes bobbing above the waves, mouth half-open, swallowing saltwater. I was in a stilled ocean, swimming toward a city-sized wooden boat, circled by boats rowed by hundreds of men. I climbed on board and wandered into a movie theater bathroom, vintage tilework everywhere. Rainn Wilson stood next to one urinal.Continue Reading

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“What’s Wastewater?” I asked. We were in the New Student Dome. Your hair was a rectilinear waterfall, drowning the crowd’s noise. I was an RA. “Wastewater is a program,” you said, gesturing to a laptop with no screen. “It replaces your memories. But not all at once.” You paused toContinue Reading

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xx I want to stare at you, lock tractor beams. Drinking coffee. Leaning back occasionally. Staring at the control panels buried in the other. I want some kind of ship with a little incentive, the headless body of a hard work – a small locker containing movement, a slot onContinue Reading