FICTION
“Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth.”
I know you shouldn’t keep wild animals as pets, but I’ve had the same spider in my bathroom sink for over two weeks.
Before the headaches began, I thought myself sturdy: firm in my foundations, set square like a saltbox house.
The young boy goes to bed and kisses his mother goodnight. He goes to bed and closes his eyes and wishes his family good sleep.
To be encased, Clint had always thought, was foolishness. Why allow yourself to be open to such sorrow?
Allanson looked out of the viewport, at the ragtag flotilla of ships trailing behind, some of them slow to catch up. It was to be expected with the little time that they’d had to cobble the fleet together.
I loved Rena as much as a patient could love their gynecologist. We had tea together in her office. I cried when she asked how I was doing, and she showed me pictures of her terriers.
It all started with the curse of my tits. Women’s bodies are cursed. Everyone tries to look at them, everyone tries to ignore them.
You’re joking, I say, interrupting the steady bumping of the doctor’s bushy white mustache.
Mama sped along the highway, unbothered by bits of gravel that flew up from the front tires and struck the windshield of the sedan.
Hitting up homes peopled by those with nothing much to lose was an easy score. The less you had, the less likely you were to defend it. But this home was different. Its residents had a lot to lose and the will to fight for it.
Ever since your son brought you here, things have been different. He was crying when he dropped you off. You still don’t know why.
A tortured simper uncoils itself across my mouth as I open another bottle of Penis wine.
I don’t know why I was still talking about the rapture. I certainly didn’t believe in it. Regardless, it remained a thief…
He used to hold my hand on Commonwealth. I wonder sometimes if he ever still thinks about my mouth.
Share some abandon.
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