by Jason Grant The entire king-sized bed is mine now, but I can’t seem to move from the left side to the right because on the nights you were here—laying there—if I dared move from my side to yours in the middle of the night it was like I-was-crossing-some-boundary you-needed…
by Isabel Brome Gaddis I haven’t lived in this little room for long but it’s already filled with my stuff the way an hourglass fills with sand. I wonder which things will still be with me when I die, and who will be left to decide what is a keepsake…
