Whoever’s Buying All the Gold
Whoever’s buying all the gold is doing it fast, in secret, at double the rate of the previous quarter.
Whoever’s buying all the gold thinks in quarters, instead of sunrises, hangs blackout curtains to discourage natural influences, dissuade the day’s false starts and ends, persistence of rotating Earth.
A Final Wave
Mama rushed around us, lifting her sari as she trekked through the creeping water. Pictures floated along with pieces of soggy debris that fell from our fragile walls.
Moving On Up
Ted Miller’s dream reveals the perfect plan.
The next day, he enters Red-Line and examines the signboard. Small units for $91.00; the largest, $234.00. A five- by eight-foot will suffice.
Relief in E Minor
The supermarket staff’s faces shone with the glaze of cold sweat in the freezer aisles. Biv trailed towards the ice cream, distracted by a sense of offness.
The Doctor is Out
It starts with a call. I know you're only covering tonight, she says, I just get it for back pain. It's this horrible ache. I'm on disability, see, but my niece, I picked her up to put her in the highchair at Burger King and wrenched something so bad and I've had to double up, and I'm going to run out early. Shallow breathing. I don't take it unless I have to, my doctor knows I don't, you know, abuse.
DIG
They hit bone.
Bone makes their machines stop. Protocol and all that. There’s a lot of cursing and spitting. They toe the ground with their boots. Of course, they say. When the project’s already months behind. (Years, some guy insists, dragging on a cigarette.)
Yeah, when the project’s already behind fucking years. Of course they hit bone.
LIFE GIVER, LIFE GIVEN
At thirteen, Erienne stands in the doorway to her bedroom, swaying at the knees. Her hair wild, dark with grease. Her complexion ashen; gray skin, blue lips, wisps of veins mapping their way across translucent flesh. She looks drowned.
