Héng. Horizontal, left to right. The brush travels slowly across the parchment. Sseong-hi watches the black ink bleeding from the line he has painted on the yellowed page. It spreads along the grain, but he holds the brush steady from start to finish. […]
The End, in Five Strokes Read More »
Cold winds blow from the north and lift the albatross high over the bay. From below, the cracking of breaking wood follows loud booms of cannon blasts. A great battle is taking place in a war that has been waged for years. Flames erupt from some of the ships, and giant
The Last Albatross of Greywater Read More »
Kat sleeps with the data. Old school, USB, under the Mouse pillow. Caught the methane release in real time, live, last night, by chance. Was messing around in her former company’s servers, suspecting they had an imperceptible delay on a few key sensors. Less than a second,
A flipped boat, he clings to the metal bench seat slick with mossy water, his feet spasming in the unknown depths below him. Because at sixteen, there’s something fucked up about not knowing how to float or tread water. He had skipped swimming lessons because he couldn’t imagine a world where he wouldn’t know how
Each Death Gets Us Closer Read More »
I hugged you, and I hugged you again before you stepped out that door. Did I warn enough about the monsters? I didn’t want to make you worry. Maybe I should have. But now you’re gone. Out in the wild world, armed with nothing but laptop and laundry bag, books, and posters. With nothing to
Mother, Shift, Mother Read More »
B e watchful of voices that shout shouldn’t, mustn’t, don’t. They said she shouldn’t climb up the fire escape and whisper conversations with the night sky. It was one thing to perch on the roof’s edge, feet dangling, and look down on the city below, taking in the glow of neon lights. But who was
The Wise Internal Voice Read More »
I cy wind rattled the coffee shop windows. The string of fairy lights outside the storefront shook, striking the glass in a repeating tink, tink, tink, like the drumming of skeletal fingers. Darkness came early this time of year, but the shop was lit with the soft glow of many stained-glass lamps. It felt safe.
T here was no room for fear at the circus. As infants, my sister Jenny and I learned to walk by balancing our child-soft legs on the gravity-defying materials of tightwires and bouncing ropes. We were birds, a fear of tumbling
Ghosts of Circus Past Read More »
I wake to the sound of bleating. What the fuck? While still half asleep, I crawl out of bed at–what–2:36 am? I grab my phone and the Swiss Army knife I keep on the bedside table and lumber down the stairs. I make as much noise as possible to scare any
Goats in the Boiler Room Read More »
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