She extended one arm towards me, then another. I allowed her ten limbs to encircle me, snake around my ribs, under my arms, between my clothed thighs. I got one glimpse of her pink, rubbery face before her hooked beak caught me. It clamped my mouth so hard I tasted
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Winner of the Sonora Review Issue 77 Fiction Contest, selected by Rebecca Makkai
According to Jan Krufka of Hard Facts Magazine, my studio apartment was
When I think of what I want your name to be, I
My dear, I think you’ll make a fine Attic Ghost. You seem destined for the slow creak of floorboards in a sleeping house. Just imagine: your silhouette framed in the window of
On the beach just by the power plant, Brett told us about the Prick Garden: “There’s a rabbi,” he said, “just back in the woods. He buries foreskins in his yard. Bris.”
Winner of the Sonora Review Issue 77 Fiction Contest, selected by Rebecca Makkai
According to Jan Krufka of Hard Facts Magazine, my studio apartment was a musty, dank lair. He told his readers about the tissues I had tucked into the crevices of my corduroy
This get-together is entirely brunette and liquid and will pass right through us like bright lights or cheap liquor.
When I think of what I want your name to be, I think of the undoing of a corset, and I want it to resemble laughter.
And there they went storming up the beaches, afalling from the windows, twisting by the pools, thinking up something cruel, (like) carrying water in slotted spoons...
She extended one arm towards me, then another. I allowed her ten limbs to encircle me, snake around my ribs, under my arms, between my clothed thighs. I got one glimpse of
She bites and chews and gnaws. She is so focused on the tiny words in her textbook. Then she clamps down on the pen cap so hard that it snaps in half.
You imagine grabbing his hands and free-falling with him, his heart beating in synch with yours as you plummet. You imagine being together, and being helpless.
