“I feared the unfamiliar that winged within my own female form.”
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TRANSLATION
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All in Fiction
“When I open the door, I face the drooping sun. The light in my face is bright, not warm.”
“…it seemed the farther they traveled from home, the closer they were to those stars.”
“I’d hear this man’s footsteps above me when in bed, trying to trap the sound of his feet with my eyes…”
“…I can see it’s a black, shrunken stick about ten feet high, stripped of the bark I once ran my fingers over.”
“I remember the sun was high in the sky and the clearing held a holy quiet, like no human feet had ever marred its face. So, of course I followed.”
“…my parents’ divorce agreement, a tarot deck, an armadillo that sang a funny song when you squeezed its belly…”
“He’s not unreasonable, he tells me. But he’s genuinely alarmed by the extent of the first-round edits.”
“The sky peels back like a tinfoil lid and something putrid creeps in...”
“Everything was ours, our reality untamed by time and misogyny, and the price we’d pay for living remained alien to us.”
“If ever a saint could be described as not giving any fucks, it would be her.”
“He loved the sense that sex could be an intervention between two people.”
“I’ve seen too much writing lately that makes metaphors of hunger.”
“And all along, what happened to that thing we had originally wanted?”
“Normally to be standing wet and naked covered in someone’s shaved hair would be disgusting. And it was.”
“…your hunger became less interesting. Home had been there waiting, right inside of you.”