Invasives
It was the last summer of the decade, hot and portentous, and I was interning for a laboratory that specialized in invasive reptiles. The lab was in South Florida, in a town so small and obscure that I learned to avoid naming it in conversation. When asked, I said I worked in Miami. By early July, I had developed a… Read more →
Post Card Art
Six-Word Stories
Cat’s gift: a snake in bed. –Sara Wynia Pre-surgery family vacation, just in case. –Sara Wynia Writer and editor Sara Wynia creates whimsical, creepy fiction. Her work has appeared in anthologies by Burrow Press and Palmas Publishing. A former Montessori teacher, Sara reviews entries for the Write Michigan Short Story Contest, and is a member of Shine Street Writers, Writers… Read more →
Post Card Art
Divorce Ranch
A let-go bunny pet comes to me, spiked hair between his ears. He wants a carrot, celery. I only have the ripped lettuce, slathered in mayo, I pull from my sandwich; I toss it down to him, watch him drag it backward a few feet then nibble. He sneezes, and I wonder if he can eat dairy. He can’t eat cabbage,… Read more →
Tuesday
there are four elevators but two are broken, and it is rush hour so there are more people waiting than i can count on my hands and feet. i hear mumbling that there are no stairs, and my fingernails carve into my palm how much more patience i apparently have than the non-disabled. the one on the left finally arrives… Read more →
More Will Be Revealed
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 →
Baking a Man
The baker is tired of following directions. All of the times she couldn’t, she won’t think about it here. She inhales his sweetness and some kind of gingery smell. It’s the way it feels when the pages of a cookbook stick together and you’re sitting in the kitchen wondering what to do and then suddenly, you know. She opens her… Read more →
One-Hand Solitaire
We were summer’s lost souls at the picnic table, sipping beer, smoking joints while someone fired up the bar-be-que. I was the quiet girl. You were the one who made people laugh. We met over cards, Hearts, Oh Hell, and Crazy-Eights with variations. You taught me One-Hand Solitaire. You taught me other things, too, about hands. Your hands, my hands,… Read more →