guns
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From the Archive: Rumpus Original Fiction: Forty-Six
Waiting to turn forty-six is like standing in the unrelenting sunshine.
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From the Archive: The Saturday Rumpus Essay: I Left My Heart in Taos
You might gasp. You might gasp and your heart slips out. You whisper and let red willows drift toward the river.
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Rumpus Original Fiction: My Mother Fires Guns
You are never really at peace with what you haven’t gotten.
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Conversations with Literary Ex-Cons: Gustavo Alvarez
Gustavo “Goose” Alvarez talks with Cullen Thomas about PRISON RAMEN, and more.
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The Blacker the Berry, the Quicker They Shoot
Fear is real. Pain is real. Loss is real. Suffering is real.
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Within the Scope
While my friends write their truths in nearby cabins, I wear my silence like a bulletproof vest.
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Between Sex and Death: Deborah Landau’s Soft Targets
Survival, for Landau, is both instinctual and ultimately pointless.
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Shelter in Place
I tell Kurinda I’d lie flat on the floor under a pile of jackets.
