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Rose & Olive
Houston neighbors pull back the curtains and expose each other’s lives.
Scanner
Your daily cup of WTF?
The Nerve Insider
A peak of what's new and hot at Nerve.
The Modern Materialist
Almost everything you want.
The Daily Siege
An intimate and provocative look at Siege's life, work and loves.
The Nerve Blog-a-log
Autumn Sonnichsen
A fashionable L.A. photo editor exploring all manner of hyper-sexual girls down south.
ScreenGrab
The Nerve Film Blog
Chase
The creator of Supercult.com poses his pretty posse.
The Remote Island
Nerve's TV blog.
61 Frames Per Second
Smarter gaming.
ScreenGrab
The Nerve Film Blog
Brandonland
A California boy in L.A. capturing beach parties, sunsets and plenty of skin.
| new this week |
| Horoscopes by Nerve staff Your week ahead. /advice/ |
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| Date Machine by Various Today in Nerve's dating blog: The wine bar is the end of civilization. |
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| Screengrab by Various Today in Nerve's film blog: Top 18+ high-school films. |
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| The Modern Materialist by Various Almost everything you want. Today: We're watching grass grow... in a new and exciting way! |
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| 61 Frames Per Second by John Constantine Today in Nerve's videogame blog: Golden Axe dresses down to its skivvies. Plus: Spore takes on evolution, reaches a stalemate, and takes evolution out for a beer. |
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| The Remote Island by Bryan Christian Top ten fiercest quotes from Top Model premiere! Plus: Sons of Anarchy, 90210 and Gossip Girl. |
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| Prototype by Nick D. /photography/ |
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| Dating Confessions by You "There is nothing hotter than a nice, shy guy. Because it's so damn hot to see what he's like underneath it all." |
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Articles
This Issue: The Lisa Files by Lisa Carver John and Miranda by George Murray The Skin I'm In by Amy Wilensky After Diagnosis by David Dodd Lee In the Realm of the Senses by Lucy Grealy |
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After Diagnosis Sometimes I lick her skin and it tastes like hot sand. She moans, pooling deep into the mattress, into water — sweat, come, solidified hair of her still-growing nails — like a breeze coming onshore, like the leaves springing to life over the lawn. The shadow of a kingfisher hovers over a still pond. It grows larger and cooler. It moves like a hand covering my wife's eyes, bones of pure feeling, the blind tongue entering the warm cunt. The roots cracking the house foundation begin to bleed. The wind scatters vowels like an animal's dream. |
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