We are proud to present

Issue Six

of No Contact

 

Eight Houses
No Contact No Contact

Eight Houses

by Marcus Tan

She pretends she is back home in Manila, sinking into her mother's favorite massage chair. Her teenage bones only feel the ache many years later.

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Gaol
No Contact No Contact

Gaol

by Adin Dobkin

The living room has scant natural light, except for a short interval in the afternoon’s gut. It brushes across my face and lands at the far closet before the room goes dark again.

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After Blue
No Contact No Contact

After Blue

by Lena Crown

The uneasy comfort of the hours drowsing between us and the certain storm. A jaunty pickle jigging across the front of the bag in Victorian loafers.

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Business As Usual
No Contact No Contact

Business As Usual

by Erika Veurink

I’m thinking about Mick Jagger. He was a god sent to teach us what it means to be irresistible. Being attracted to him feels universal, like religion. I don’t give a shit about The Rolling Stones.

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Kat
Nathaniel Berry Nathaniel Berry

Kat

by Nathaniel Berry

The reception was at Wagley’s: an orange-brick and white plaster-columned funeral home out on 223, in the parking lot of the Family Video, where Jet’s used to be.

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Going Out
No Contact No Contact

Going Out

by Zachary Lipez

Seeing all the punks on the street was as close to going to shows as one could expect for the foreseeable future.

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Taylor Swift’s Holiday House
Gauraa Shekhar Gauraa Shekhar

Taylor Swift’s Holiday House

by Gauraa Shekhar

Seven bedrooms, seven-hundred feet of private beachfront, a million summer parties in a pool once cleaned with champagne.

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