Sara Dallmayr is originally from Kalamazoo, Michigan. She has a BA in English from Western Michigan University. Dallmayr is a rural mail carrier in South Bend, Indiana. Her work has appeared Third Coast, SWWIM, Laurel Review, and elsewhere.
The sun spins its slow circle of beam upon her left hand. She smiles, an echo of the waning crescent moon. her hair brushes the stream. she lays her palm flat upon the water as it moves a wave up to reach her, a furl, the curve of a note. the air is warm with dirt. in cloud-speak a message… Read more →
Your aunt’s blind dog Patsy turns corners in your sleep. Patsy felt her way around, the way an egg will curl against the corner of a pan. Now you doubt this is your memory at all, embraced and protected in a thin carton of scrambled images. Move and the egg spins inside of you. One turn with the spatula and… Read more →