Readers operate under precedent. What you have read before causes a spin towards what you are reading now. Universality might be what you should read now.
Universality by Natasha Brown
Father’s Day
Somewhere in Nova Scotia, at a battered laminate-top bar, in a wood panelled tavern that smells of spilled beer, urine, and the leftover odour of bagged cigarettes, sits a sixty-two-year-old man with wispy white hair that scraggles out in thin stands from beneath a black ballcap, featuring the nondescript logo of a company that he’s never worked for.
Saharagus
One asparagus, sidewinding through the butter-tawny sand on the shadowy side of a six-storey dune...
She Could Have Millions
I’d been talking to Salesman John about a sleeper sofa for our newly painted den when a woman slipped into Hip, the name as well as descriptor of a neighborhood furniture store. She was like air whooshing through the door. “Excuse me,” a whispery interruption. “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me,” a flatlining of fast words.
The woman, spoke to John. She didn’t see me, or chose not to. I could have been an image, a hologram, a statue, pen in one hand, papers in the other, mouth hanging.
two words
two words
two words twin that
two words twin that