A twenty-three-year-old writer is sitting in her St. Louis apartment on a winter night when she begins to feel unusually cold. She repeatedly takes her own temperature with a green plastic thermometer.
RECENTLY PUBLISHED
Haunted at Home
Haunted, some might call it. I say, At home. The past is here, ripe and palpable, reaching out to us. Hoping we reach back.
The Geographies of Violence
The woman is still wiping blood off her face when a throng of villagers envelops her. You can no longer reach her amid the swarm that surrounds her.
Holding Patterns
I do not fear strangers. Everyone in the world exists to protect me from disaster I can sense but not perceive.
Smile
“Basmah” means “smile” in Arabic. That’s what my ex-wife named our daughter; she said that maybe she could teach me how to smile. Our marriage lasted for eight years. I tried my best.
MOVEMENTS OF THE UNCONTROLLABLE BODY PART TWO
We assume that we would die inside of any black hole but what if we sometimes survive and what would we find there in the survival abyss
