by Tracy Lyall Songs of 70s rock stars are fading, with old albums—vinyl records in colorful covers stacked on top of each other, thirty, forty at a time—lying dormant in a thrift-store window display. The roller rink is closed down, wooden floors scratched by skate wheels, molding and mildewing. The…
by Elena Kaufman Iris Katz’s neighbor returned from six months in Florida to hear suspicious sounds coming through her adjoining wall—incessant scratching, barking, yelping—and the stench of something rotten. The women didn’t know each other except to say hello on the front walk. Mrs. Lowther told the men she was…