Fiction
Comatose (or You Don’t Know Where You Are)
You wake up. Are you dead? You don’t know where you are. Look around. There is a wide dirt road framed by tall, dark pine
Edit
Can’t you let the film spool unseen on the stained floor? Its frames forever static as my fingers resplice our hands. Let my battalions of
Violets Are Blue
Bending at the knees, Camilla crouched down to view the lipsticks on the lowest shelf of the drug store cosmetic aisle. The hem of her black dress grazed the linoleum floor as her fingers hovered over the edge of the shelf.
Their Heads Came Falling Down
“I’m afraid your head will fall off,” Esme said. “What silly nonsense,” her friend replied. “No, this is serious,” Esme pushed. “I remember it happened
Cold Lights
Outside my window there is steam
and there are lights in a skyscraper
where people sit at their desks
and the lights let them work.
The Decision
Maya puts away our coffee-cups – I’ll rinse them after our walk, along with the produce for lunch – and stands behind me, massaging my neck at the right spot.