Her Phone
Inspired by Hernando Tellez’ story Lather and Nothing Else S he came into study hall with a flounce. I was the only tutor on duty that day. Amanda carelessly tossed her bag onto the floor and sat in the chair across from mine. To cover my nervousness, I stacked my notebooks to the side and
One Hundred and Thirty-Five Seconds
B reathe deep and break the surface. Ice blue waters tingle on lips. Your arms pull like longboat oars, thrusting you down. Since childhood, you’ve explored every inch of the seabed in front of the beach house, searching for your lost twin, your fingers brushing gray-black sand, which whips into underwater
One Hundred and Thirty-Five Seconds Read More »
For Whom the Banshee Wails
S he seemed to sit on the moon. A waning gibbous, her dress draped over the edge. Although far away, I could see the red of her eyes, crusted and tight from crying, and her mouth gaping a hole of perpetual wail. I bowed to her warning, for I’d been expecting her.
For Whom the Banshee Wails Read More »
Call Me By Your Love Name
H e moans Samyukta, Samyukta—your given name—with a lazy oomph. You halt, squint, your body crouched over him stiffens, and the frenzy between the four entwined palms dampens. “What’s wrong?” he asks as if nothing has happened. You don’t know yet. You’re in a wormhole, about to enter a different world,
Call Me By Your Love Name Read More »
Wheeled Centaur
D ecember 19th. Her birthday. Cathy cried softly into her pillow, a copy of the local paper spread out on her bed. The paper was open to the horoscope page, and she’d enclosed the entire paragraph for Sagittarius with a pink heart and highlighted the relationship sentence:
The Revolution of Olena
Where are they going? Beyond the sky, behind the moon, To wait for us someday soon. ~Cold War-era children’s lullaby O lena had planned it this way from the beginning, before the Agency had recruited her, before she began tracking the moon’s phases on the dormitory wall, scratching hash marks into
The Revolution of Olena Read More »