Fiction
Sand Fortress
By Meg KaizuSoviet-era buildings destroyed by Russian bombs and the war dead whisper in my ears, as I walk alone. Snow falls on the city, enclosing us, as if to conceal the sorrow, brutality and cruelty of the world.
The Guest
By Roberta AllenIs this really Anneke? you ask yourself, as you lie in bed in the child-sized room in the attic of Anneke’s old gabled house in Amsterdam. This is only your second night here, but already things are not going well.
Manhattan Meets Dixie
By Dorin SchumacherI shut out the commotion at the other end of the long narrow table lined with my new in-laws. I chat with my sister-in-law across from me. I can hear my mother-in-law’s voice over the din.
Chanel at the Bottom of the Ocean
By Stephanie YeThe flight attendant is falling through the sky at 198km/h. The sheer velocity, the terminal velocity, has ripped the clothes off her back, the shoes off her feet, even chunks of dark hair off her scalp, the locks twisted round the hairpins that once shaped a fist-sized chignon.
Household Harmonizing
By Dorin SchumacherMy parents only argue about important things like which way to sharpen a knife every time a Sunday roast is carved.
inSerial: part five
Delusions of Being Observed
By Lewis Warsh
The Rail is proudly serializing Delusions of Being Observed by Lewis Warsh from the Oct ’16 issue through the Fall of ’17. Please join us every month for a new installment.
Tragic Strip
By Tom MotleyShit just got real.
Bigly's Wall
By William & Katy Arnold and Susan YoungBigly's Wall is a daily cartoon featured primarily on social media. The cartoon was formed from the frustrations of two writers and one illustrator who had no other effective means of protest.
LOST AND FOUND ANIMALS
a misplaced bestiary
Part 5: The Pre-Partum Mites (Acarophenax imaginaria)
By Sid Gershgoren
For so long in the history of living things sexual reproduction did not exist, in theory or in practice.
Upon waking
an homage to Mierle Laderman Ukeles
By Laura Raicovich
Upon waking, I brush my teeth, wash my face, cut my finger nails, pluck a few stray eyebrows hairs, take a shower. Quickly glance at the email that has come in overnight, and at Facebook and Twitter—new spaces of maintenance.
In Conversation
New Routes in Fiction
A Talk with Akhil Sharma
by Alec Niedenthal
One voice I tried—a third-person focused on the point-of-view of the child. The third-person narrative consumes plot at a different rate at the first-person.
