“he was here, and no mistake. his sign pervades this place.” i speak as measured as i’m able. it helps me if i pace. “you would know it, if any would,” says Lufkin, calm as i remember. he always had that talent.…
her hair is gold. this year, she wears it short. she keeps her coat on when she’s holding court, patting all its pockets; each one holds the dreaming of a day. she smiles when she speaks, and always has so much to…
follow the red thread, pulling up handfuls in each hand; cross the lake on floating bridge to where the strand meets sand. see there, in the shallows? funeral barks lie sunken, home to crabs in spiral shells. beyond the beach, the path…
this is from before she lost her key. she said, “today i’m off to see how many steps it is from here to Siren’s Shore.” she was gone for half the week (though it seemed more.) when she returned, she didn’t speak…
he [d]re[a]members the rain. it greens the dunes before him into reed and grass and grain. he listens to its patter[n] on the leaves, feels rivulets t[r]ickle his sides. a lake—not so long distant—glistens moonlit; ripples roll and glide. the breeze is…
i have seen your smoother parts. i have heard you say “carrier”. i have spilled your drink. i have scenes of the soothing arts you used to cure a barrier between my thing and think replaying in my mind behind the [c]ling…
“still thee, Phipps,” says Jenner, “we do this for England’s saving.” the boy strains taut against the straps; were he unmuzzled, he’d rightly be raving. later, when all syringes are spent, he breathes wet and heavy and ragged. his teeth chatter hard;…