Sometime in 1998, the doctor entered the room as if he wasn’t about to deliver me the worst news of my life. But, he nonchalantly sat on his stool, opened up my case file and flippantly frowned. He looked
Tag: spring 2023
The electronic chime of the alarm clock sounded from within Eileen’s cranial implant. “Good morning!” Andrew informed her in a bubbly tone. His early-morning enthusiasm never quite gelled with her outlook. But it was to be expected, given his
Tempted to oblige, shyly or otherwise As a student, I was not entirely unsuspecting, with a burning intensity under the surface, a blur of anticipation. On the verge of waking up from lifelong introversion and slumbers, I wanted
Fireworks coming like clockwork, small flames of red noise the minute he lay his head down on the pillow. Earplugs were no good. The noise was inside him, incurable. Every day he lost a little more of his silence.
She was shaded in fragments of yellows and blues. Found lost in a window of heavenly stains, Stashed away in an unknown frontier, Considering intently with a hum of nerve connections and synapses alike. All encapsulated in a hue
Barefoot girls sit cross-legged against the arch in Washington Square Park chatting on a crisp spring day when the entire world fits neatly into the pockets of their embroidered jeans Their hopes, still intact, like golden-crusted rhubarb pie cooling
Should they call me sentimental for riding by your old place to see the steps where you waited for me on long ago dates when I’d borrowed my dad’s Plymouth as he always had allowed? Should they call me
When the paramedics arrived, they took my mother to the trauma center at Parkview Hospital where the attending physician counted 30 puncture wounds. Not twenty-seven or 3.14 or the square root of the hypotenuse of some obtuse triangle. Thirty.