“Autobiography of a Bedsheet” by Chelsea L. Cobb
Why cotton?
Because that’s what it feels like. . .
Why cotton?
Because that’s what it feels like. . .
And from the thousands of words that define us, not a single word has just one paternity. . .
Read MoreMaybe Keano’s electroceutical fed the neural concerto of Aanya’s break-up into larger networks of perspective. She couldn’t decide which was better: fixation or detachment?
Read MoreShifu looks at the stream behind her compound, contaminated from the mines, thin and weak, and still thinks she can drink from it. She says freedom is flight. She says water is life. . .
Read More“That DNA test is just water cooler hype, babe,” she chides, “you know, like TikTok challenges”. . .
Read MoreAfter school, I’d head to the arcade first. That was my real home. I never got into games like Dad did, but I liked getting my hands in the machines, figuring out how they worked. . .
Read MoreSometimes Alice dreams she’s wearing Jennifer’s face. . .
Read MoreBorn in amethyst caves, Lilymutts spend the first six months of life chiseling armor from stone. . .
Read MoreThey were saying that they were all gonna move after this, bad fengshui and all, but they never did. . .
Read MoreThere was only an irregular rise and fall visible in the middle of that pile of winter jackets, socks over pant hems, ripped fabric. . .
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