By Maggie Kennedy “The orange tastes like a refrigerator,” my son says,spitting out his bite and pretending to gag,and though I have never tasted a refrigeratorI know what he means. The orange tastes like the plastic it was wrapped in.And though I have never eaten plastic,the conjured smell fills my…
by M. H. Burkett Arthur Roget Theodin the elder stared levelly at Arthur Robespierre Theodin the younger. Rog showed his age, hair thinned and gray, combed severely back in a widow’s peak, the lines in his face sagging with years. The smile sat flat, stretched between wrinkles. The eyes were…