Work Done on the Flesh by George Looney
A cave-in one county over keeps me up. The late news has live cameras at the entrance where men come out, coughing up clouds of dust that shroud their faces and shimmer in the stark light of the video cameras.
A cave-in one county over keeps me up. The late news has live cameras at the entrance where men come out, coughing up clouds of dust that shroud their faces and shimmer in the stark light of the video cameras.
You greet me with an accumulation of slaps, thin broken red line: we both want this. There’s no con and no man.
I am lonely, so lonely that I go to the store to buy lemonade and when l see you at the register I say, hubba hubba, sweet lady, and you say [shriek]. This isn’t helping at all, this whole, other people thing.
Steven John interviews Meg Pokrass, Founding Co-Editor (with Gary Fincke) of the Best Microfiction series about the anthology
Godzilla is the pet name he gives her not long after they start sleeping together. She’s restless, especially at night. And she doesn’t yet know her way around his apartment in the dark. Topples the footstool, the laundry hamper. Creaks the wooden floors.