The salt kept showing. Little grains of white bounced up off the wet curtain like someone was shaking it clean. Our hands couldnt keep it, we sure as hell couldnt see its source. So, instead, we looked at each other while the distance grew.
We were in constant awe of himVon Chiffon, this fidgeting boy with a voice that rose without ceasing, a voice that when he began speaking, trundled until it had done.
One morning, we stood with a card in our hands, and though Our Mother was seated in the tiny circle of light at her sewing machine, she wasn’t sewing, the machine wasn’t humming, and we were afraid.
Iole was tall and imposing, light complexioned, delicate, pale blue eyes and long snow white hair that she held back in soft coils with tortoise shell combs. Every morning with slow gestures, seated before the mirror of the dressing table, she tidied this long hair dampened with nettle juice.
Every couple of months a brown package would arrive at our home in Philadelphia filled with Mexican stamps and neatly tied up. It came from the Libreria Madero in Mexico City. I still remember their bookplate and distinct inscription even though the bookstore ceased to exist a long time ago.
These letters are excerpted from The Selected Correspondence of Louis-Ferdinand Céline, additional letters from this manuscript will be featured in the July/Aug issue of the Brooklyn Rail.
Arryan Decatur has an Aerosmith tattoo on the upper part of his right (your left) love handle that cost 70 dollars.
Hi there. Let me know if you are interested in meeting me. I live in [redacted] Brooklyn and I was thinking how to make this whole thing with better flow.
Our story: Aline the alien and her sidekick, Kik, are paying a visit to their creator.
Alexander Rothman is a cartoonist and poet. His work has appeared in such publications as the Seneca Review, Moonshot Magazine, the Brooklyn Rail, Suspect Device, and the Rumpus, and is forthcoming in the Indiana Review. He cohosts a comics-review podcast, Comics For Grownups. He is also co-editor-in-chief of INK BRICK, a journal of comics poetry. More at inkbrick.com.
Paul K. Tunis is a comics poet and illustrator. His work has been featured by McSweeneys Press, The Poetry Foundation, Bateau, Drunken Boat, Loaded Bicycle, Moonshot Magazine, and the Rumpus. Paul completed an M.F.A. at Sarah Lawrence College. He is also co-editor-in-chief of INK BRICK, a journal of comics poetry.