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Singing these hymns had always been construed as a form of worship, but as my allegiance to the orthodoxy of the church slowly faded, my attraction to a cappella vocal music gradually expanded. 

Lee-ann Wilber’s Crime-Scene Bed and Breakfast

The martyr is borne
through town on the backs

of believers.
Such a ghost ship!

No one warned me. No one tells you dogs dream, and no one can say what dogs dream about. 

In synchronized swimming, one man’s bid to stay in the game.

Storm me.
Send 

me down into the dirt
& dark, raise 

me like thunder up.

In 2015, some 1 million migrants and refugees entered Europe as they fled instability in the Middle East and sub-Saharan Africa. We felt compelled to try to reset the discussion of this crisis. This is how photographer Jason Florio’s...

A house is not a home. It is but a pile of sticks. “‘Home is,” on the other hand, as Robert Frost famously said, “the place where, when you have to go there, / They have to take you in.’” Less well known, and more resonant, are the words...

The fourth installment of #VQRTrueStory—our new social-media experiment in which stories and images cross platforms, from Instagram to the website to the magazine—features Jamie Alliotts’s encounters on the sidewalks of Manhattan.