Your grey eyes cut around the room, following light as if movement or prey, dashing in and under growth, gathering places otherwise unseen into your periphery.
Bitter Earth
A Bishop in Love
We need a foreign country to set us free, Even one so poor, where no one cares.
The Dictionary on My Brother’s Desk
Several years ago my brother asked for a dictionary.
Intermezzo by Sally Rooney
Dublin. Gray and rainy. Streets and buildings whose names have the “sound of familiarity”, meaning that there’s an author’s expectation that I will know the names, but I don’t since I don’t know Dublin.
Deadly Vigil
Going to mass should be dangerous—
Postmortem of a Fish – Editor’s Pick
I saw god at the dentist’s, splattered on the chair– a discarded fish head. Jaw forced open, eyes closed shut.