Literary Nonfiction

I needed money after the move. That was my excuse. But really I couldn’t bear to live in another house with it, knowing it was in the side table, in the drawer above my vibrator. Unfired for years—so much potential. The inheritance came with a small box of bullets, the cardboard foxed but nearly full, …

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A great many orchids, the endangered lady’s slipper for one, expend a portion of their energy creating pseudobulbs where they host ant colonies, because the formic acid ants spit at intruders gives the soil a pleasingly bitter pH. This is an example of myrmecophilia, a way of being in a love relationship with ants. Though …

This day ends in the kind of holiday where I feel knotted up in—remind me again who is the parasite and who the host? Hell-bind, strangleweed, beggarweed. A lot of people, no plants, no sky, in a small room where we tell each other how we are happy to be together. Hairweed, goldthread, devil’s-guts. A …

In a fascinating miCRo essay, Fee takes us on a tour of the microwave’s unexpected origin story.

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Story from Issue 22.1

The train curved around the mountains of West Virginia, and my father said to look out the window. He pointed to our right, and I saw the engine. Then he pointed to his left, and I saw the red caboose. “We’re one big circle,” he said. “I don’t know if we’re coming or going. If …