Johnny Rumble Rides Again An encounter with William Dean Christensen, a.k.a. Wild Billy—The American Jack the Ripper.

Johnny Rumble Rides Again
open.substack.com/pub/lfgrauba...

Missing in America Quiet men, the fading lights, the lives unraveling one drink at a time — subscribe.

open.substack.com/pub/lfgrauba...

Gracias a los lectores que encontraron la historia en español. Me alegra que haya llegado hasta ustedes.

Gracias a los lectores que encontraron la historia en español. Me alegra que haya llegado hasta ustedes.

“The Insecticide Parade” – A child searching for the crossing between angst, consciousness, and attunement.

@smokelong.bsky.social

SmokeLong Quarterly Issue 91 (story + interview + full audio) → smokelong.com/stories/the-in…

“The Insecticide Parade”

Thanks again.

@smokelong.bsky.social @christopherallen.bsky.social

Smoke Signals with L.F. Graubard - SmokeLong Quarterly There’s something Americana-core about the insecticide trucks and the children in your story “Insecticide Parade” that reminds me of how post-war small towns like the one I grew up in Southern Ohio ar...

“The child’s first trauma is not pain — it’s recognition.”

“The Insecticide Parade” @smokelong.bsky.social @christopherallen.bsky.social

Read interview here:
www.smokelong.com/interviews/s...

The image shows the cover of issue 91 of SmokeLong Quarterly. At the center there is a woman in a white dress bathed in the light of doorway in an otherwise dark room. The text on the page is SmokeLong Quarterly and the contributors of the issue.

It's here! Issue Ninety-One of SmokeLong. Thank you to everyone who helped get this out in the world. www.smokelong.com/issue-ninety...

Russian wiretap

Broke and shaking, he walked into an embassy. No files. No paper. Just memory. An underwater wiretap nobody was supposed to know existed. He gave it away in fluent Russian, like ordering lunch.

Thirty‑five grand. A girlfriend in a safehouse. That was the deal.

Convicted spy Ronald Pelton sold Operation Ivy Bells for thirty-five thousand dollars and a Russian girlfriend.

Read here: bloodhoneylit.com/cnf/the-red-ha…

Sunday Stories: “The Quiet Fire” The Quiet Fireby L.F. Graubard Eva left without a goodbye. That’s how the Narco Farm did it—people vanished between counts. One day you’re brushing your teeth together, next day her bunk’s stripped…

"I kept my opinions under the tongue. No sense lecturing a man with a funeral parlor on his CV about hypocrisy." www.vol1brooklyn.com/2026/02/15/s...

"Life feels like a punishment treadmill—like that old Betty Boop cartoon: the villain runs faster, gets whipped harder. The system whips you, and you keep running, pretending it’s freedom. That’s how it was back at the Narco Farm."

theberlinliteraryreview.com/l-f-graubard...

"Strip off the facade and we’re all the same—sick, self-centered schmuck playing dress-up in our own version of the truth.”

"Life feels like a punishment treadmill—like that old Betty Boop cartoon: the villain runs faster, gets whipped harder. The system whips you, and you keep running, pretending it’s freedom. That’s how it was back at the Narco Farm."

theberlinliteraryreview.com/l-f-graubard...

“He pivoted to philosophy—Machiavelli and The Art of War, Nixon without the sweat. Honor, culture, dignity, respect—he lined them up like saints on a shelf. Old-world greaseball liturgy. To me it felt like theater. Jews call that kind of man a mensch. I’m not one. Not even close.”

Sunday Stories: “The Quiet Fire” The Quiet Fireby L.F. Graubard Eva left without a goodbye. That’s how the Narco Farm did it—people vanished between counts. One day you’re brushing your teeth together, next day her bunk’s stripped…

Joseph Bonanno — FMC Lexington, 1983.
From The Narco Farm.
@vol1brooklyn.bsky.social @tobiascarroll.bsky.social

Read story here:

www.vol1brooklyn.com/2026/02/15/s...

Wild Billy. Coke-bottle glasses, acne-pocked skin, Bass Weejuns under prep-boy slacks. Billy’s math was simple: one insult equals wreckage. Saltshaker through a windshield, broadside ram. Blank inside, empathy never wired. Read story: x.com/ExpatLitJ/st...

The Narco Farm

FMC Lexington prison hospital 1983.

Sunday Stories: “The Quiet Fire” The Quiet Fireby L.F. Graubard Eva left without a goodbye. That’s how the Narco Farm did it—people vanished between counts. One day you’re brushing your teeth together, next day her bunk’s stripped…

Joseph Bonanno — FMC Lexington, 1983.
From The Narco Farm.
@vol1brooklyn.bsky.social @tobiascarroll.bsky.social

Read story here:

www.vol1brooklyn.com/2026/02/15/s...

Missing in America – L. F. Graubard - ExPat Press December 12, 2020 He sits at the end of Harry’s Bar and Family Restaurant, killing doubles to kill bad memories. Network news on the TV, but he’s not watching—just letting the static float through him...

expatpress.com/missing-in-a...

The Mermaid and the Sniper – Larry Graubard - ExPat Press Morning hits like punishment detail. First thing’s the piss—slow, reluctant, a thin stream from a rusted pipe. Then coffee. Bitter, black, essential. The mirror doesn’t lie. Naked. Swollen. Sagging. O...

The Mermaid and the Sniper – Larry Graubard
x.com/LarryGraubar...

The Brownsville Code

www.bloodhoneylit.com/cnf/the-brow...

LF GRAUBARD: Akari’s Note Akari Osaka got her first violin at four. Crooked pigtails, bow trembling like a nervous bird. Her father, a Nisei, sat cross‑legged, watching her saw through “Twinkle, Twinkle” like scripture. He …

New micro up today at Fifty Word Stories: “Akari’s Note.”
Writing flash is like playing jazz—you try to say more with less. It’s what you don’t say that matters as much as the words.
fiftywordstories.com/2026/01/26/l...

expatpress.com/the-mermaid-...

#JohnnyRumble #noirlit #existentialism #bukowski