In “The Magic City,” Andrew Spear documents summer life in Glouster, Ohio. Our art editor, Suzannah Showler, interviews him about the Appalachian town that let him in.
When the granaries go, they send up a flood of light so intense we wear sunglasses indoors all morning. We draw the curtains and look for blindfolds while brightness spears up from the ground like fencing foils. The whole horizon is brittle with light.
After lunch, we go up to the rooftop and squint out at the city, at the hard lines of light still rising from the skyline like clock hands.
“That’s ten,” Sister Mary Gloria says. “Eleven if you count the dockyards, which I do.”…
When my mother sees my heart in arrhythmia, she says it looks as though a butterfly is stuck in my chest, fluttering my skin. “I can see it moving,” she says. I am in high school. It feels too zippy to be a butterfly, so as I lie in bed at home, waiting for the bad rhythm to break, I picture a hummingbird caged in my ribs, buzzing from valve to valve.
“Scram,” I say. “Vamoose. Bird begone.”
Eventually it does. But it takes its sweet-ass time. And it’s only a matter of time before its return. It’s building a nest in there.…
Our current issue features work from: Sarah Crossland, John Paul Davis, Gabrielle Hovendon, Andrew Spear, Corey Van Landingham and many more.
“I’ve always felt an inability to name or conceptualize my identity, my ‘self'; for me, it’s much less daunting to try and nail down the identities and selves of others.”