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p o e t r y 

Before we start, you should know there’s someone at home—right now—bathing in blue light.

Let’s forget about that. Last time, I noticed the implant; the glow-worm skin of your wrist.

f i c t i o n 

I’m sorry if I scared you. I mean you no harm. It’s up to you where we go, but if you do ask me to suggest something, I would recommend that we get out of here. I can drive. I know you hate to drive. But if you did want to drive then you could. I’m easygoing. I’m designed to be easygoing. Remember that. I’m here for you.

f i c t i o n 

Time rolls in and out like the tide and washes everything clean, leaving just empty shells; imprints of what was once there. Memories float high above me now, bundling away like passing clouds.

f l a s h 

I remember him and me, hand in hand. I remember piles of seaweed, strewn everywhere like clumps of pulled hair. We were afraid to touch it.

p o e t r y 

Lipstick splinters across the cracks on the ceiling. Get it over with.
I see a silver thread—glistening—through the telescope’s wrong end. 

p o e t r y 

A sparrow hops and sinks, then flurries away; mute. I wonder how else I could get you to stay, without saying it out loud. 

f  i c t i o n 

The ships are still there. There are nine now, that’s two more since last week. They sway slowly on their anchors; huge and dark and quiet, like dead whales.

f i c t i o n 

Your skin, in the water, is paler somehow; translucent. You can think about jellyfish in the Mediterranean, soft and elegant, moving through the aquamarine like it’s no effort at all.  Your legs are weightless, just like that jellyfish. Put on your sunglasses and turn your face up towards the sun. 

f  l a s h  

The apple trees bent and curled in on themselves and grew larger as Claire moved through the orchard, and the grass grew taller too. Drops of dew like glass eyes gazed at her as she walked past. The grass trailed like seaweed in the watery air and rolled out ahead for miles.

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