Nonfiction
This is Thin Air Online’s Archive of pieces that are classified as nonfiction. We accept work from those associated with Flagstaff and those from far off.
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“On Zumba” by Meg Petersen
My Zumba instructor is excited because Halloween falls on one of our class days, and even though this is more than a month away, she tells us to “Get your costumes ready, ladies!” and goes on to gush about every costume she’s ever worn in the who-knows-how-many years she has been teaching Zumba. She is,…
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“Box at the End of the Room” by William Vernon
Box at the End of the Room He is my Cousin Somebody, according to my father, who begins shaking hands and hugging people. I glance at the box at the other end of the big room and see inside it a forehead, nose and lips, hands piled, lying one on the other. “Who are they?”…
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Career Development Assessment by Dan Morey
Career Development Assessment SAID ABOUT SUBJECT: “Seems sort of contrarian.” “Fun to hang out with.” “Not really a team player.” “A bit on the eccentric side.” CHILDHOOD INCIDENTS: Dinner at subject’s father’s club. Subject, younger brother slip away from table. Discover box of coffee creamers in back room. Declare war. Battle rages until man (old,…
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Rocket Worship by Devin Thomas O’Shea
The drones over Yemen sound like lawnmowers in the sky. They are impossible to ignore, and algorithms determine strike targets based on unknown criteria and so the people beneath must wake every day and ask themselves if their behavior is suspiciously terroristic in the eyes of the power overhead. Would entering my cousin’s house be…
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Cantilevered Ponds by Brianna Di Monda
The interest of a photographer lies in experiments with transparency, explorations of the frame, and interrogations of perception. I first toyed with these ideas in September, when I took a photo of my friend wading into a pond. He wore only boxers and looked out at trees reminiscent of summer time. James’ emaciated body bore…
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In Memoriam by Miram Ben-Yoseph
My mother died on her birthday 40 years ago. She died in Israel. I light the memorial candle in my kitchen in Evanston and recite the Kaddish, the Jewish prayer for the dead. I drag the box with the “fragile, handle with care” sign on it from the basement and put it on the chair…
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Dear Anger, What is Next? by Mekenzie Dyer
Dear Anger, I have been staring for months at the blank word documentthat should be my next writing piece. Once a week I tap out a few bitter wordson my keyboard before deleting them once more. My problem: I am still not overyou. For more than a year I drowned myself if you, drowned my…
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Scared by Michael Chin
We honeymooned in Orlando at the Universal Studios theme park and found our way to a Jurassic Park-themed boat ride through thick trees and velociraptors—fun in an ironic, retro way. The absences and deficiencies in technology stuck out. There was a time—presumably when the ride was released in 1996—when visitors would have been scared by…
