Currently Viewing: fiction
A language dies when people stop speaking, when they start cutting up the ones they love into pieces so that they fit into metaphors.
In a lonely household there are animate objects.
“It is the only place I’ve ever been where the sky eats the land and you can barely see the grass with all those huge clouds in your face.”
A short story about getting your signals crossed.
He was conventionally attractive, someone who could have posed for the cover of a Harlequin romance novel, long Jesus-locks flowing, a bespeckled Jordan Catalano in head-to-toe Brooks Brothers.
The latest installment in Vanessa’s series of diaries from the points-of-view of literary heroines.