Danny says he’ll sell from under-neath me. Where does the magic gowhen the house is pulled away? Anyway,I believe him, so I stitch my lips tomy eyes by the corners, and scramble thelittle yellow suns with a pinch of black pepper. I walked into a purple-blackbruise again. He doesn’t under-stand why I can’t just be …
I want to bite down so hard upon a diamond ring that my front teeth shatter. My molars were meant to grind together, My tongue to curl up and wither in the back of my throat. My lungs have been trained to take in more than they let out. What an image it would be …
Continue reading “The Miller’s Engagement Photo Shoot” By Jane A. Horvat
Christopher sat on a bench, waiting. His left leg bounced restlessly, the one sign of movement in the otherwise tranquil garden. The thrum of Bloomfield Hills was muted by the surrounding park, incapable of penetrating those forested boundaries. Once past the second layer of trees people were enveloped in nature's lull. His anxiety was due …
The narrow brook below our hill was a place of dreams where nothing ever happened—sleepy remnant of another time, murky water barely moving—deeper after winter snows, ebbing as lady slippers bloomed pink under pines planted as a watershed. Old oaks stood close by, and a swamp where I picked wild grapes, holding my nose against …
I always dream of Oregon. Trees, so many trees, unbroken until suddenly they open onto choppy black ocean, enormous and filled with enormous things. And, I stand on the edge of a cliff, arms outstretched like I’m trying to embrace the whole of the salty air, but I’m small, so small compared to the trees, …
Burnt Pine 