Objects of Pleasure

*Public safety warning. Keep this story away from children and the easily scandalized. If accidental reading occurs, immediately rinse eyes and call your local pastor.  “Hank!” June yelled off the deck, but her husband couldn’t hear her. The engine of the rider lawn mower he was driving drowned her out. “Hank!” she yelled again, waving … Continue reading Objects of Pleasure

Temporary Attractions

In August they appear shimmering in the highway haze. Metal caravans refracting the sun. They set up in plain view. In parking lots or the rented dirt of fair grounds. By nightfall they’re up, red lights running, the kind of cheap attraction built to go up as quickly as it comes down. The crowds wander … Continue reading Temporary Attractions

The Composition of Dust

On Saturdays, she stays inside to wipe away the residue of the work-week, covering every surface of the house like dust. She scrubs and scours every seam, in between feeding machines constant cycles of dirty then clean. All the while, she knows, in the kitchen, fruit on the counter is going soft in spots and … Continue reading The Composition of Dust

Momentary Inertia

    not fifty seconds before or twenty-six after but right when the big finger hits sharp on the twelve and little on the six that’s when he opens his eyes and starts the morning mechanics stretch yawn piss dress teeth out of their jar back in his head bed made—corners hospital sharp Then he’s … Continue reading Momentary Inertia

The Taste of Paper

      After seven years of silence —a soft mumble of an email. I miss you. More of a murmur in sleep than a conscious sentiment. But we were never friends. More like refugees huddled together trying to survive the same war. Waiting in blown-out rooms for our men to return from the torn … Continue reading The Taste of Paper

37 degrees

37 degrees is the temperature a normal body holds. She woke up cold beside him and already knew. He stared up blinkless--dust already forming on his pupils. She filled him again and again, punching in time to the tinny disconnect of the speakerphone counting with her: one and two and three and four and five.   She pauses, ear to mouth … Continue reading 37 degrees