It was a typical August night in Tokyo when each breath felt like you were sucking cotton into your lungs. . .
August 2017 News & Features
Now Available: Atlanta Noir, edited by Tayari Jones
Now Available: Twenty-Year Anniversary Notebooks
At eleven o’clock on a Wednesday night, a man and a woman checked into cabin number 17 at Venice Marina under the false names of David and Connie Monroe. . .
Brother Tomás watched the red tail hawk slowly circle overhead. . .
Old Mr. Willman’s head twitched, and with some difficulty he pointed an arthritic finger at the gigantic oak tree with the peeling bark. . .
They found Clarette on her porch that morning, a wax figure in her robe, barefoot and clutching a nearly spent half-pint of brandy. . .