Sonny Boy
cw: abuse Grandmother always has a crochet hook in her hand. Yellow yarn in a loop, memory beaten into muscle. The day I am born, in photos taken on cheap disposables at the hospital, blue yarn knotted into a baby blanket. When I am sixteen, the same color from the …
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Radicle: An Interview with sid sibo
sid sibo recently sat down with our Associate Managing Editor, R.S. Saha, to talk about animals, the connectedness of characters and environment, and how a shift to a more environmental worldview impacts their work. sid’s debut novel The Scent of a Distant Family, published by the University of Nebraska …
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Nocturne for Transmutation
Come here, please. The overboard seeds have brought birds and fish deep into the wake. The slipping glance the sun gives on its way to tomorrow golds each of their feedings. I don’t want to see all of this alone. I don’t want each head disappearing into water or …
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Apple and the Destination Wedding
The month before my brother’s wedding, my roommate adopted a hairless cat. “Adopted” is a generous word. He obtained a cat—off Craigslist, I think—from some guy whose daughter both begged for and lost interest in the cat within two months. My roommate was kind of a hoarder. Newspapers …
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Holes of Blue
I wake from anesthesia with a smattering of gray holes blurring the vision in my left eye. Since I’m in a hospital for a procedure on my spine—nowhere close to my eyeballs—I panic, my breaths shallow and rapid. I can’t see, I plead to the nurse fiddling with my …
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A Dance: for Mary Oliver’s “Dogfish”
Some kind of relaxed inquest I gathered first and sat with. It was your hesitation that lured me sense that you’d lifted your traces off solid ground set them in dark water. White belly, sharpened nail, I began the translation?—the carrying— the air thickened with intention …
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