Stalactite Drips in the Kitchen
A chronic drip. Right over the marble work table, just above Franny’s head, but curiously not dripping on her. Just dripping when she steps away. It’s only a leak. A leak into this basement kitchen....
View ArticleIt’s Hot in Here
Bettina uses the brick oven even in the summertime. The heat wraps you in a sweat even though the kitchen is in the basement hidden from the sun. A film of stickiness covers Franny’s face as she mashes...
View ArticleWe Need Some More Kindling
Through the night. Even when the planets are out. Saturn and Venus. We still need more kindling. Is that an airplane flashing a headlight against the black? Or a moving star coming closer, daring to...
View ArticleBird Land
She sat near on a limb near the top of the tulip tree. Her thigh muscles clinging hard to the branch, her arms stretched upward, her hands clasping the branch above her head. She spoke rapidly and...
View ArticleCall of the White
The moon is in front of the window just outside the terrace door. Its glow coats the living room. The light wakes Bettina, it pulls her from her bed. Slowly, with reluctant waking eyes, she drifts...
View ArticlePlease Don’t Use Dill
It was only one little branch of dill, a sprig really. In fact, it was probably, accidentally, mixed in with a bunch of parsley that I didn’t even notice until for some reason I felt compelled to smell...
View ArticleHome Fires
As soon as she gets into her apartment, before she turns on a light, she moves with fast, wide steps to the other end of the living room. The terrace door lets in light from a sky fading from pink to...
View ArticlePoultry
I am the dead chicken. Of course I am dead. Of course I can still see. I know the kitchen. I have been here before. Thousands of times. Millions. I have been in primeval kitchens, ones made of rocks...
View ArticleMouse in the Brushes
All that was left of the pastry brushes were a few wooden handles badly bitten. All the brush hairs lay in a random pattern on the floor and in the storage drawer and some had blown out the window....
View ArticleModernity
A cell phone is her only connection to the present. She carries it wih her in a pocket. Within the long sweeping skirts that she wears each day — each skirt layered with patchwork fabrics or...
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