Our neighbors got foreclosed, and the bank never came by, and so we watched the house falling down. Weeds growing up. It looked like one of them barns out in the country where it’s all still standing but only just, and you can imagine…
Tide’s out, and the bones of his ancestors are gabbling in the air. He can tell which ones belong to whom – dents in the cranium, density of a femur, thickness of coccyx and clavicle. Granny’s are the flat brown yellow of tar, gloom…
Imagine a backpack, flung off the shoulder of a ten-year-old-boy and kicked under his writing desk, straps slouching onto the carpet stained with sharpie streaks and spilled soda. This is where it will remain, abandoned until the end of the school break. Imagine a…
It seems we can’t find what you’re looking for. Perhaps searching can help.