Magic Fingers by Elizabeth Fletcher
By the fourth motel, I knew to hold my breath for the exhale of mildew when mom unlocked the door. In the shadows of the blackout curtains, we spied the coin box between the two doubles.
Itinerary by Richard Holinger
Bears would come eat haybales stacked to the ceiling, one on top of the other. Barn had no doors.
Stranger in the Bright Light by Jennifer Lai
I heard about the abductions from Lisa. First, it was a Doberman. Next, a Ball Python. Then, just yesterday, someone’s Maine Coon. Why they were out in Gladstone Field in the first place is anyone’s guess.
Men Like Them (Marks Park, Sydney, 1988) by Kathleen Latham
It’s the local man’s idea to walk to the Bondi Beach bluffs. More privacy, he says with a twitching smirk of nerves
Yayoi Kusama’s Yellow Pumpkin Swept Away By Typhoon Lupit by Melissa Llanes Brownlee
your obsession fills me in with dots, not dipping dots, the pastel ice cream of the future, but black circles lining edges and curves, holes like lotus flowers, seeds, fruit…