My Husband Leaves Me for the Younger Woman

Finalist in the Summer 2026 Editor’s Prize Contest

A grey and white image of a woman’s nose, lips and chin is in the upper left-hand corner, her hand with curled fingers below. A white tear-drop shape is poised above one outstretched finger.

“Someone you were hoping I might be #39” - Willy-O’

Yes, I am eviscerated, 
my heart skinned 
and trussed, but my life 
isn’t over—I know this 
because last night 
I watched the movie Alien—
the original? from 1979? 
which even after 46 years 
you are able to stream 
on demand—and I witnessed 
the “lifeform,” phallic 
as an unfried chicken leg, 
burst from John Hurt’s 
narrow chest right there 
on the dining room table. 
Saw it bare its teeth, duck 
into the air ducts to fester 
and grow. The crew member 
with lives to spare—Jones,
the saffron cat—eludes 
disaster, but most everyone 
else meets a gory end. 
Except Sigourney Weaver, 
who blasts that muculent alien 
into deep outer space 
and escapes in the evacuation
shuttle. So there it is. At such 
distance the alien looks 
featureless and small. 
You might not recognize it 
as my life at all.

About the Author

Terry Hall holds degrees from the College of William & Mary and Mary Washington College. Her chapbook The Something We Make from Nothing was published by Seven Kitchens Press in 2024. Her book Neither Are Crows, winner of the 2025 Laura Boss Foundation Narrative Poetry award, was published in April 2026 by New York Quarterly Press. Terry lives in Staunton, VA, with her cat Brontë.

About the Artist

Willy-O' is a psuedonymous artist and stranger on this earth. He has no formal artistic training. He primarily works in mixed media and is especially fond of printed material collected while wandering around. He currently resides in Vancouver, Canada.

Peatsmoke