Friday, February 3, 2017

Boxes, Basements

"Boxes, Basements" is part of the new Issue of L'Éphémère Review, entitled Epoch.

The entire issue can be downloaded for free here.

When I opened my eyes my feet were the feet of a baby: I wore red baby shoes with thin blue stripes and white soles.

I looked at my hand. Cracked skin, veins branching out on the back of it, the hand of a grown man. Odd to see it without the black needle between forefinger and thumb, useless.

I got up (I'd been sitting cross-legged in the middle of the street, who knows how long) and walked toward the sidewalk as cars skidded, honking, drivers gaping at me from side-windows with their hands as if screwing in light bulbs before their faces.

I am perfectly fine, I thought, just transported. The record player. From the box in the basement.

No comments:

Post a Comment