Monthly Archives: February 2012
She eats fear with morning coffee chunks of ash, black in her mouth worries cinders between delicate fingers mixed with a trickle from her cheek to spread on burnt toast
He said to watch the ice, an adjuster’s nemesis lying in wait under a light scatter of snow on the walk. I ground a boot heel into its smooth cheek, spidered the outer crust and skipped through the back door. Once inside I saw
Her pink lace nighties littered the floor, strewn by hands that touched all of her treasures, gone missing when she closed the door I turned a drawer upright avoided the splinter as it slid in the tracks, a single drop
A man in bright Bermuda shorts tapped a chisel against the ice to free a wide-eyed yellow duck caught swimming and mid-squeak when the cold snapped His wife laced up hockey skates on winter white legs and sniffled that they
728 nights he lay awake in perspiration soaked sheets supposing the craggy limb scritch-scratching the window was the arm of his unlovely neighbor. He didn’t know the oak grew taller.
I know how she died. Her family relayed the details. Witnesses gave me statements. I’ve been to the scene, read the official report, browsed the news accounts. And now, I’m reading the coroner’s report. The days these papers skid across