I look up at the godhead. The sand is white around my bare feet, a damp seal. There is no horizon. Where the sea should fall away into the distance, it curves up instead. A towering tidal wave so high…
There is a patch of clover in my back garden. If I stand in it at night, I can hear a crow calling my name. It calls my true name, not the name I answer to during the day. In…
for Jennifer Walkup apricity, n.: the warmth of the sun in winter Tejal peered out the window at Marseille. The day was gray, a rarity for the normally sunny city. Not the reassuring gray of an old sweater or…
i. In the jar the twins float, each the other’s anchor to a world they’ll never see. From one angle: a comforting embrace, heads curled to one another’s necks. From another: an assault, eyes screwed shut, gums hungry. ii. My…
Dear Friends of Interfictions, With your support, we have run a marvelous magazine for three years. At this point, Interfictions needs to take a break to allow the Interstitial Arts Foundation to figure out how to best support us. Our…
For C. These are the notes I wish I had when I had you. Abandonment If you wish to abandon your child in the woods, even if temporarily and in fair weather, such as on a particular sunny afternoon in…
