YR Online

from Harold Schechter’s Murderabilia

Though almost entirely forgotten today, the 1897 murder of Mrs. Louisa Luetgert by her husband Adolph was not only one of the most widely publicized crimes of its time but a case of genuine historical significance.

 

No.  1 Reference to falling.
No.  2 Reference to walls tumbling down or being broken through.
No.  3 Eyes as location, e.g. “In your eyes.”
Terena Elizabeth Bell

I had no idea Philip Roth was my landlord, much less my next-door neighbor, until the night I moved in. When you share a wall with someone, you get to know him in unusual ways   .   .   .

So I’m an old guy now, but when I was younger, I used to walk around with the thought that my late father gave me nothing, or next to nothing. I didn’t inherit any of his talents; My sister can weaponize a joke like him, my brother’s scalp, my Dad’s sad, eroding shoreline.

Karen E. Bender

No one knew who originally proposed it; the government would mandate an exchange of shame. Citizens who held too much shame, which interfered with their lives and productivity, would come to an official site where their shame would be handed to a government official who had none.

Feisal G. Mohamed

Imagine for a moment that you own property on the U.S. southern border. Alarmed by the prospect of a presidential declaration of national emergency, you consult with an attorney on how you might challenge the federal government’s expropriation of your land.

Melissa Hunter Gurney

Esmeralda fell from a luscious palm leaf.

That’s how her abuelo started her story when he told it.

Her umbilical cord was an emerald vein he said.

Anna Lewis

We could have lived here forever, I heard Max Laberman say to my parents, all of us older now, our faces slipping at their various fault lines, my parents having bought the house from the Labermans how many years ago?

Henry Walters

Dear Kid, Lady, Z—, Old Foe Friend Stranger Death,

Someday you’re going to get as far off the beaten track as Nevada, & your radio dial’s going to spin like a compass in the Arctic, with no place to lay its weary head, & you’re going to wonder  .   .   .

 Sina Kian

There wasn’t much in the house. Just some furniture, linens, and old ceramic mugs; a box TV and a remote, a study with a little desk and some files, and a printing calculator almost the size of the landline telephone. There were a few coins under the cushions of the couch  .   .   .