Lucinda Kempe’s work has been published or is forthcoming in Matter Press, Jellyfish Review, The Southampton Review, New World Writing, Elm Leaves Journal, and Summerset Review. A 2018 Stony Brook M.F.A. graduate, her micro fiction was long-listed in Wigleaf in 2018 and 2019. In 2020, her work was included in Bending Genres Anthology.
More of her work can be found here: FRiGG
Three o’clock in the morning. I was tiptoeing down the hall when I dropped my house keys. A pale-yellow light spilled onto the dining room floor. The walk-in closet door was ajar. I stepped to the threshold and peered inside. The plastic bags filled with old clothes Mama and I had used as Mardi Gras costumes had vanished. The space… Read more →
The doctor says, “Let me research it and get back to you.” Code for I have no idea how to make you feel better. I have not lost my mind. Do no harm is supposed to be their motto. Her assistant says, “That’s interesting” as I describe the pain in my urethral meatus. I had to tell both the doctor… Read more →
I didn’t know what the word meant. So, I looked it up. Had to do with a dirge and I just couldn’t go there, been writing about the dead for so long. Suicides on the news. A celebrity chef dispatched to parts unknown and a pretty handbag lady lost it, used a red scarf. Reminded me of Jim Harrison’s line… Read more →
Here’s another wedding picture—a happy couple on a beach with a pretty mom—everyone smiling and alive. Not like my wedding where the Greek women wore black and my godfather excused them by saying, “Black is au courant.” Ever the bobcat and a fancy tom, Sam was the mysterious man wearing leather pants in my mother’s honeymoon pictures taken in a… Read more →