by Sarah Giragosian
Before the infamous “shower scene” in Alfred Hitchcock’s horror film Psycho, there’s target practice in the parlour, a sequence that at once grips and baffles me. Why does Marion Crane stay? There are too many red flags: Norman’s rictus of a smile, the sad stitching of the taxidermied raptors, his—cough, cough—hobby of “stuffing things.”
Read Moreby Kaye Miller
i remember July before the wildfires, when we nestled on the porch beneath clothesline, the dripping of dishrags, and tucked ourselves small between grill and propane tank, waiting for that first tin-roof chime of rain. our team of fifteen, before the campers came, our anticipation, o’ sweet pinewood porch, watching the cap of clouds on the horizon. a ghostly pillar of cumulonimbus, slow gliding into camp.
Read Moreby Lena Palacios
As a child of the late 70s and 80s, Paula often fell asleep in front of the TV and awakened startled to “snow” or static. She would tempt fate by calling on the demonic spirits of the other side of the white noise like Poltergeist’s little, blonde White girl, Carol Anne.
Read More