“Cheer up, brother. You’re making everyone sick with all that worrying.” “I can’t help it, Spidey. All my abusers are dead. My mother is dead…”…
Three voices. One literary house.
Author: M. Christopher Horton
M. Christopher Horton is a novelist and storyteller whose work weaves together queer identity, memory, and myth across time. He publishes fiction, poetry, and essays at Melrook.com.
He is a bisexual survivor of childhood violence, homelessness, drug addiction and the final seasons of Seinfeld, Lost, True Blood, How I Met Your Mother, and Game of Thrones.
He has a cat named Marvin who loves him unconditionally.
A Seven Act Stage Play by M. Christopher Horton —– ## CHARACTERS **MANNY** — An undercover operative posing as a junkie. Plays acoustic guitar. Speaks…
Whoever it was that said every man had to go through hell to reach his paradise better have been right. Once again I found myself…
The following document is a field report submitted in March of 1995 concerning an incident involving several members of an illegal organization known as “crusties”…
Poor people commit crimes because they’re broke. Rich people commit crimes because they’re broken. The rest of us commit crimes because we’re bored. “Brother Rook!”…
A collective of dolphins is called a pod. A group of ravens is known as a congress. A parliament of owls. A sangha of Buddhists.…
On the east side of Manhattan, near 52nd Street, there was an old art high school where the teachers were working artists, and the students…
The raising of a middle finger as an insult dates back to before the time of Jesus. In Ancient Greece, the aristocracy used the raised…
Sad, broken, and jostling without a seatbelt, Melvin Hawthorne left Chicago, Illinois, for Woodstock, New York, in the wee hours of the early morning. “I…
In the fall of 1920, the first cars came to the islands of Shanqui Jian and to the streets of the Walled City on the…
Marty’s expression never changed as he reached into his school-uniform suit-jacket, pulled out a miniature flathead screwdriver with black tape across the handle, and held…
Melvin Hawthorne pulled his old teddy bear close and gave him one last hug. He had received the dreaded call. His so-called stepfather, Ankh, was…
Eleanor folded at the waist to whisper to whisper in her grand-nephew’s ear on his sixth birthday. The church was packed with people, and the…
Grandma Lily was sweet, kind, and brilliant and still alive by the year Melvin Hawthorne was born; 1967 in the summer of love. As the…