On the basis of what I took to be his vandalized spirit, he could have been my father. “Can you help me?” he said. “Follow me,” I said, absent the intonation of a leader. I wanted to go to the top-but this man, he looked as though he had fallen. (On his jeaned knee, some […]

An ever-updated calendar of all significant dates and times for all those who find themselves anywhere closely or loosely in the orbit of Fence. You can subscribe to this google calendar feed as well — just click or tap this sentence. ↓   ∞   ↓   ∞   ↓   ∞   ↓   ∞   ↓   ∞   ↓   ∞  ↓  To […]

And Paris Is Beautiful Too Katherine says we should tell the world the Gold Coast is beautiful, a real find, and I say Paris too, we should tell everyone we know, and she says we should also tell them about Rome and Florence, and I say München and Berlin, we should definitely tell everyone we […]

If you listen closely, you can hear a frail ringing noise, like when the television would run out of programming late at night in the ’80s. Only much softer. It keeps me up. At two in the morning the choral music starts again. My mother complained about it at lunch yesterday. She said, ‘the mosque […]

Dalia Neis and emet ezell are artists living in Berlin. This summer, they sat down to speak about Neis’ book The Swarm, recently published by The Elephants. The Swarm hums to a music all its own. Set between the gurgling baths of Budapest and the Western Carpathian Mountains, Dalia Neis bends narrative into fog and […]

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On the eve of the publication of THIEVES: A NOVEL, author Valerie Werder and Fence Editorial Co-Director Jason Zuzga connected to discuss the origins and complex life of this work. JZ: You were working in the art world when you wrote Thieves-how did your experiences lead to the writing of the novel? VW: I wrote […]

The empty hallways were covered with worn-out carpet. A ventilator worked against the smell of fish, burnt fat, and sweat. I felt a pain behind my eyes, in my temples. Some of the cabin doors had numbers on them. A sign directed me to the cafeteria where the night workers were eating dinner. I could […]

H has a childhood memory of lying in bed at the farm listening to a soft, high pitch cut into the slow quiet. It’s a little like feedback but purer, like feedback’s crystalline cousin, and it gets louder until it’s directly behind her eyes. She lies still but begins to panic as it gets louder; […]