Sophie Hoss is a New York writer who loves the ocean and is in bed by 9pm every night. She has received a Pushcart Prize, has been nominated for Best of the Net and Best Microfiction, and was a semifinalist for the American Short(er) Fiction Prize. Her words are scattered around in BOMB, The Baffler, The Los Angeles Review, The Southampton Review, Wigleaf, and elsewhere. Also, she has a small dog named Elmo who likes to wear little sweaters.
a slanted wish and its two-tongued answer. a misspelling of melted snow. morning runs in the cold, in shorts, in shrunken sneakers thumping pavement, the cysts are rattling inside me like loose change in a pocket. synonyms for decay : rot, wither, the wrong kind of quiet. the ghost of a grief so shape less it can hardly be grief… Read more →