“A Very Safe Place,” by Rachel Heng
No sooner did the words leave his mouth than the man’s eyelids fluttered open. “No . . . police,” he said.
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No sooner did the words leave his mouth than the man’s eyelids fluttered open. “No . . . police,” he said.
At least once a day I press the Thought like a bruise, and if I don’t it eventually starts to play anyway.
October brings some of the coolest, cruelest, sharpest, nastiest fiction of the year, and the world of translated literature is no exception. The following titles are as brutal as...
Bryan shifted on the hard plastic chair. The overhead light buzzed steadily. The smell of burnt diesel and scorched plastic clung to his jacket, cutting right through the intervi...
The author discusses his story “Appeasement, Ohio.”
Sara Lawrence reviews
The first installment of a six-part serialized short story.
It was the end of the world, and a number of us had gathered in a large, abandoned house.
In a climate of anti-Jewish censorship, a new fiction imprint from Wicked Son will play a part in determining the future of Jewish fiction in America. The post Print Issue: Making...
My life in London, the life I had cobbled together with the barest of routines, grew thin and unconvincing. It now seldom felt real.
A sense of impending doom—that was how Weary had described the feeling many people got, like a heaviness in the chest.
A conversation with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s son Ignat Solzhenitsyn.
“Dèy,” “Etna,” “Are They Dead Yet?,” and “Unbelonging.”
A strange, beautiful story...
When we asked readers for short fiction about Americana in the Spring, we got far more than a set of stories about cowboy hats and lonesome highways, which, to be honest, was a wor...
- - -Longtime McSweeney’s contributor Jessica M. Goldstein’s novel Retro is about a struggling, out-of-work actress, Ash, who gets a job as a Time Travel Agent at a start-up that t...
The police lieutenant appeared to be writing down exactly what Gleb was telling him, but relying upon completely different words.
An excerpt from Bastards Rudy left me his old leather motorcycle jacket, which I took to have the zippers repaired and the lining replaced. On retrieval, the man at the counter sli...
This month's fiction haul includes Soviet nepo babies and a starving spectacle inspired by a real 20th-century sideshow act. Plus, the return of a 2010s-famous author.
Diggers Lads call me Maddox. It’s a nickname, hated it but it stuck. Now my ears prick up whenever someone says that name. It’s not easy, this life, at the beck and call of trage...
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