Literature

It took Lydia five minutes to pry Pointer away from the door, where he growled and barked incessantly. With one hand buried in his silken gold coat she cracked the door with the other, the dog howling in distress. “Can’t you read?” Lydia…

The little fish yawns like an operatic tenor, as if he wants to sing to the clams that are digging— to the coral reefs who are judging that b-flat that he is belting. The little fish yawns like my dog Buttons after she wakes from her…

Stop #117 — Kingly and Seventh — 6:54 AM He woke and slowly detangled his body from hers, folding her limbs back on herself like origami. Lost in her dreams, she murmured softly into his shoulder, her hair a tangled veil across her…

Tastes like cardboard, you say, face scrunched, wistful of a mother’s recipe you haven’t yet mastered. I swallow my offense: this may be the last time I hear it; your voice. Stacked by the front door with my fellow fallen…