February 5, 2018

“The house was covered in blood. The walls were in varying stages of brownness (some edges were still red from fresh blood but the rest of the stains were already oxidized with age) similar to thick rust. We could not breathe without inhaling the blood. I tasted it on my tongue and in my throat. I was dizzy with the blood smell. I could not think right. I staggered about, holding the bloodied walls for support, then sinking down onto the equally bloody floors…”

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January 29, 2018

“I wanted to be buried with the man. Put us both in the box and leave us to rot. If I curled against him, pressed my head to his unmoving throat, then the box was large enough for two. In that box, I breathed for him and me: deep, soothing breaths that ended with the air. My flesh became indistinguishable from his. Down into the ground we went, down into the dirt, deeper into the dark, where the man already did not breathe…”

January 22, 2018

“I saw a body once, one that was butchered and splayed. The body was a slab of meat, like a pig, a cow, a sheep. I was horrified, sickened, by the corpse. I could not stop thinking: This is what I will look like one day, this is what I might look like now. Once dead, with our flesh removed, we were all the same meat…”

January 16, 2018

“There was nothing to be afraid of in the house. It was only a house, just as any other house was what it was. It was a house with bedrooms, kitchen, bathrooms, attic, basement. It was a house with a man and a woman. It was a house with us. A dark house, yes, but still a house. A house that was not fearful, not unless you spent hours staring at the slightest crack in the wall, thinking: What is it inside?…”

January 9, 2018

“Why was it, when I thought of the man’s eventual demise, I could only ever imagine him in a box, the mess of his putrefaction contained? There were other ways, were there not? To be cast out to sea in the bathtub, a torch alight above his heart, curtains flapping around him, until finally, the smoldering weight of him sank beneath the water? Or to be chained atop the attic’s chimney, his fleshiness exposed to the birds who would peck and pick him open…”

January 2, 2018

“I dreamed that the man came for me. I walked to a house in the dark and the man came out the front door. He beckoned me forward, reached for me. The man took my hand. He kissed each finger, then pulled me through the door. The house was cold and I could not see. I felt the man against me. I felt his hands on my back, then his hands in my hair. My eyes burned when I blinked…”

January 1, 2018

“The house reminded me of stone. I walked through the front door and it slammed shut, sealing me in the dark. This was the dark of underground and crypt. I smelled mildew, dirt, and rot. I walked into this darkness and saw nothing. I felt my way, running my hands along crumbling walls, crawling across sagging floors. I tore my body open and bled freely. The blood smelled of water…”

December 27, 2017

“I grew tired yet refused to sit. I avoided the chairs and sofa. With each seat, I thought: There is a man hidden within. I saw it clearly, the man posed with knees and arms bent, head swathed in fabric, sighing with delight as my body eased onto his. I imagined that if I sat upon him, he would grow hard with erection, then come, his body seizing beneath mine, but so swaddled that I could not feel the jerk…”

December 18, 2017

“Eventually, I went from the table to the door. My hand shook upon the knob and the lock clicked. I barely took my hand away before the door swung open. The house beyond was dark. I felt the darkness as oppression and flinched. I felt the silence in a similar way. It felt as though both would beat against me relentlessly until my internal organs failed from the barrage. I did not want to go through the house but there was nothing left for me in the dark, dark room…”

December 17, 2017

“And then I noticed that everything else seemed to leak—the corpse and the walls and the table and the chicken, and more, the pores, hair, eyes—all of it, leaking clear and amber and green. It was a thin, noxious fluid that dripped upon everything and never rolled fully off. And I thought: Was this what we eventually became, once we ceased moving…”

December 13, 2017

“The family said: Touch the dead. I refused. Mother yanked at my hand. Father pushed me forward. Sister and brother begged. Putrid grease dribbled from uncle’s bottom lip. The family shouted: Touch the dead, touch the dead. I could not. I did not. The dead’s smell lingered at the back of my nose; when I sniffed, I caught the smell as if my face were buried in its soup-like innards…”

Excerpt #8 from “Mother Walked Into the Lake”

Excerpt from Mother Walked Into the Lake (out 12/5/2017) now available for preorder at http://www.kernpunktpress.com/store/p9/Mother_Walked_Into_the_Lake.html.

MWITL8

November 10, 2017

“Sometime during the fifth night, I woke to rattling. Confused, I thought the rattling came from the walls, as though the pipes were ripping free, the radiators close behind. The rattling came again, stronger, and then I felt it. The rattling was deep in my chest, somewhere to the left of my rib cage, and it shook my body violently…”

Excerpt #7 from “Mother Walked Into the Lake”

Excerpt from Mother Walked Into the Lake (out 12/5/2017) now available for preorder at http://www.kernpunktpress.com/store/p9/Mother_Walked_Into_the_Lake.html.

MWITL7

Excerpt #6 from “Mother Walked Into the Lake”

Excerpt from Mother Walked Into the Lake (out 12/5/2017) now available for preorder at http://www.kernpunktpress.com/store/p9/Mother_Walked_Into_the_Lake.html.

MWITL6

Excerpt #5 from “Mother Walked Into the Lake”

Mother Walked Into the Lake will be released December 5, 2017. Preorder now at http://www.kernpunktpress.com/store/p9/Mother_Walked_Into_the_Lake.html.

MWITL5

October 12, 2017

“In the dark, the man and I smiled. We smiled wide, until our smiles could not spread any farther upon our cheeks. Such smiling hurt. The man and I were in great pain but we smiled through it, smiled as though we did not know the idea of pain. We smiled even when we suddenly thought: There is something in the house…”

October 11, 2017

“There was something in the house. I did not think it was the man, I did not think it was me. But perhaps it was. Perhaps we lingered in the hallways as if we did not belong. We occupied those spaces that were meant to be shut away from us. When one did not belong, one did not necessarily feel such a way. When one did not belong, one sometimes thought: No, this is wrong…”

October 9, 2017

“It took some time before I calmed but then, when the man touched me, I did not flinch. I lay as if broken and the men petted me in long strokes. I felt that my limbs were disconnected from my body, that my bones were not mine, that not even my skin was attached. When the man’s hands were upon me, it was as if they really set upon another’s flesh…”

October 6, 2017

“I slept, I woke, I slept. I was feverish. Perhaps I was dead in bed, I did not know. I watched the ceiling for so long, as though it might open up to me. A fine crack ran the ceiling’s length and when I looked away, then back, it seemed the crack spread. It reminded me of a crack running through an egg shell…”

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