Jody M. Keene
Silver sequins from Mr. Simpson’s flight suit littered your sheets like space junk, like wishes made on stars long since dead.
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Frances Klein
The cons list is everything The Angel Gabriel tells me they don’t have in heaven: neon signs shaped like flamingos, and walls on which to hang paintings of dubious quality. Heaven has trains but no train-tracks, nothing to walk down while avoiding the future.
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Joanna Theiss
The majority of Marilyn’s fixed income becomes fixed on the animals, on food for Richard and the cat and her seven kittens, on the parrot, who turns out to be a picky eater, on frozen mice for her new boa constrictor, on bedding and litter and a pumice stone for the parrot’s beak. Marilyn survives on zebra cakes and the sunflower seeds that the parrot rejected, but at least she’s too hungry to check Facebook.
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David Yourdon
He was from out west — he didn’t clarify what that meant, so I don’t know if out west was meant to evoke Big Sky or Big Sur. Twice, he mentioned how things were there, as opposed to how they were here, as if where we lived embodied the East.
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Gabrielle Griffis
There were ways of figuring out the truth, about what happened, even if the path was circuitous, fragmented. There were people, objects, scattered across the landscape, some had more information than others.
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