‘Of course I wouldn’t. It would be politically incorrect, as is anything really personal.’
I’m so furious at Sonny I almost hate her.
I told Sonny I love her. She said, ‘I’m a sucker for love.’
Sonny reads in the paper about a child who was sexually assaulted and murdered. She says quietly, as if to herself, ‘What are we going to do about sex?’
Sign in to Granta.com.
‘The anglophone world, we have to infer, has run out of words for its own feelings.’
Daisy Hildyard on the wisdom of scarecrows.
‘What is the read receipt for?’
Lillian Fishman on texting, power and the ethics of leaving a friend on read.
‘Like pretty much everyone who uses the internet, I have seen many terrible things that I did not search for and that I cannot unsee.’
Rosanna McLaughlin on what the internet thinks she wants.
‘I have a pathological addiction to the internet, which I indulge with the excuse of making art. It rarely translates to anything good and mostly leaves me overstimulated and afraid.’
Paul Dalla Rosa on excess and the internet.
‘rumors of bees on speedwell, / no oxidative stress just / effortless pollination’
Two poems by Sylvia Legris.
‘The producer and I became good friends, bowling around after work in Berkeley, New York, and LA.’
‘Six days a week he rose early, dressed, ate breakfast alone, put on his hat, and walked to his barbershop at 207 Henry Street on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, about half a mile from our apartment.’
‘The night of the meeting I told my wife I’d be home before midnight.’
‘How far can one deviate from the accepted pieties before one is kicked out?’
Brandon Taylor on naturalism and the future of fiction.
‘A spectacular warehouse this city is; folk from anywhere.’
