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Redemption Window - by Eve Abrams

The fact that Brooklyn is part of Long Island often comes as a shock to people unfamiliar with New York geography. But there it is: the blatant truth. The island shoots toward Manhattan torpedo style, its back end all Atlantic Ocean; its front nosing toward Upper New York Bay, Lady Liberty, the former World Trade Center. The slice of Brooklyn in full view of this convergence is a neighborhood called Red Hook. You can see it all from the pier on Coffey Street, where, during most hours, on most days, local anglers cast into Buttermilk Channel, wedging their rods into the stylized ironwork fence, swigging from bottles of beer, and watching the slow progress of the Staten Island ferry in the distance. My friend Allen, who lives a few blocks away on Beard Street, caught a crab there once and ate it. “Were you scared?” I asked him....

Symmetry - Logan Perkes

I shrug into my sweater, regretting a recent haircut that bares the back of my neck to the cold.

“I don’t know what to do about him,” a friend says. “We’re together almost every day, but—he’s seeing other people. I know he is. I guess, well, we aren’t official or anything, so it’s not like I can say something to him about it.”

I’ve heard this before. I almost tap my fingers on the lunch table, but I stop myself.

“I wish . . . ,” she starts.

“What?” I say, trying to be supportive.

“I wish I could become somebody else for a day just so I could look at myself. I mean, I really want to see myself objectively,” she says. “Don’t you wish you could see yourself from the outside? As a stranger does?

...

Conquest, Tourism, and Eternal Canadian Rapture - by Stephen Ausherman

Part One

The Gaspé: A Report from the Committee of Patriots for Truthful Intelligence

Americans are at a loss to explain Canadian superiority. We invaded in 1775 and 1812, failing in both efforts to conquer our northern enemies. They seem not only indestructible, but also interminably cheerful, able to tolerate a host of woes in the most dismal times....more

Three Stories - Michael Hearst

When I first moved to Brooklyn, I had breakfast one morning at a Greek diner in Park Slope. Handwritten on a paper plate, taped to a wall, was the following item:

SKITAS $3.50

I asked the waitress, “What’s a skita?” ...more

Writing Him Off - Mike Scalise

Here’s how Ethan Thomas and Sam Rutherford’s friendship began to end: It was late, maybe just after midnight. Ethan walked out of his bathroom in his pajamas after brushing his teeth, and the first thing he saw was Sam, standing with his back to him at the kitchen sink. Sam is small. Almost thirty, he stands, at most, five two and looks somehow unripe, with the soft features of a teenager: fair complexion, thick frame, and a large face, like Robin Williams might have looked in his high school yearbook. At that moment he stood just feet from Ethan, leaning over his kitchen counter, scrubbing out a thick glass mug over a sink full of dirty dishes, silverware, pots, and pans. ...more