My Complicated History with Mice Continues
“It felt like the mouse was saying, ‘Hey man, check out this spread!’”
“It felt like the mouse was saying, ‘Hey man, check out this spread!’”
I know, I know, they’re landfill plastic and a waste of energy. But their golden glow frames my windows, making the pitch darkness at 6 p.m. less disturbing and almost cozy.
Currently, I’m in the middle of troubleshooting a production line of machines that work together to make uranium hexafluoride.
I don’t know if I should scold you for taking up camera memory space.
Perhaps then your recommendation letter will arrive via carrier pigeon.
When I was inevitably rejected from the six MFA programs I applied to, my understanding of myself as a writer crumbled into a number of pieces that were far too small to pick up for a while.
The trains will go regardless of whether or not I am on them.
The story is grounded in a physical landscape, where food, clothing, and furniture reflect the changing world of Jade and her acquaintances.
The waiting and work we put in make the outcome sweet.
This chicken has presence. This chicken has stature.