A Public Space, No. 27
“Diversions,” novel excerpt

Look, she said and held up her laptop to show me outside.
Light flooded the screen and for a moment all I saw was white. She reappeared as a silhouette, and then as her full self again.
It’s getting cloudy, she said. Now I can’t go swimming in the ocean anymore.


The Common, Issue 13
“Firsthand Account,” short story

He gave me a tour of the farm and showed me the dogs, the mare, the fish, and the pet vultures. Twelve black ones were perched on the fence around the artificial pond full of fish. I stood by the water, watching some of the birds defecate on their own legs to cool down.