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Post- Magazine

Post- Magazine

lydia tár isn’t real [A&C]

We were “duped”—it was “trickery”—we had fallen right into “a trap.” Who, you might ask, was the agent of this malevolent manipulation? A dating app catfisher? The con artist at the top of a pyramid scheme? No. According to a number of critics (and audience members who took to Twitter) ...

Post- Magazine

the ghosts i call darling [narrative]

I go down to the small cemetery by the edge of the river. Everything shines—there is no darkness here. The headstones persist in spite of what they know. They keep themselves up, pushing against that knowing which pulls them down, down. One stone is laid with a coquettish flower-crown, the next with ...

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Post- Magazine

as the leaves do [narrative]

A friend once told me that he thinks Californians grow up thinking life is easy because they don’t have to deal with bad weather. He’s not entirely wrong: At home, the seasons melt into each other almost unnoticed—the sun shifts its shade, the wind picks up a chill, suddenly it’s dark at 4 p.m. ...

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Post- Magazine

it's lamp season [lifestyle]

The end of daylight savings is here. Nights come earlier and days will soon be overcast. That is to say, light will be a scarce resource. We’re all poorly adapted to see in the dark and prone to vitamin D deficiencies. So it’s the time to get creative and embrace sun alternatives—it’s lamp season. ...

Post- Magazine

ceaseless sequentialities [feature]

Chairlifts have always scared me. I remember when I had to board one for the first time, swiveling my skis atop the faded red line dyed into the ice below me as I waited for the seat. I looked back over my right shoulder, anxious to get the timing right. The chair was coming—my chance. I was ready. ...

Post- Magazine

a body in flight, but not in motion [A&C]

Stepping into a wide square room, I am immediately struck by the monochrome adorning the walls. The room is white, and the air conditioning blasts from the ceiling, sending a preliminary chill down my spine. Then a second, and third, on and on, cascading—reverberating—through my body. Around the ...

Post- Magazine

woven into the seams [narrative]

An old scar is suddenly itchy, forcing me to remember a time of which I have no recollection. It’s a penny-sized crater, puckered on my right side, kissing my rib cage. My body’s permanent dimple. I mindlessly sweep my fingertips over its edges, wondering if it’ll hurt. It never has. If it ever ...

Post- Magazine

not a normal dog [lifestyle]

If you are an avid reader of post-, you may have seen my entry a few weeks ago where I proclaimed a gaping dog-shaped hole in my life. It exists because I miss my pup from home, Sara (who is, unequivocally, the best dog, like all dogs). In an attempt to fill this hole in my heart, I’ve reached out ...

Post- Magazine

seeking warmth in jazz [A&C]

It was February of freshman year and the novelty of New England winter was starting to wear off. My fantasies of a winter wonderland were met with bare trees and blotches of yellow snow, bleak reminders of my tendency to over-romanticize. The snowflakes that once gently graced my face now fell repeatedly ...

Post- Magazine

raising monarchs [narrative]

Mother believes that a young girl’s upbringing is not complete without witnessing a butterfly’s life cycle. To be raised as a girl in our home is an act of shedding skin, growing a pair, and embracing change. If your wings get stuck, you wiggle about. If the chrysalis is tough, you punch its walls. ...

Post- Magazine

uncertain certainties [narrative]

I first felt certainty at my masaní’s (grandmother’s) farm. I felt safe in her hogan, curled up with blankets, the stove fire hot on my cheeks, side-by-side with my younger siblings. I’d listen to their breathing, a steady rhythm accompanied by soft crackles from the burning wood. Through her ...

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