Gemini Magazine
_______________
| by Len Kuntz |
| "TWISTED" & OTHER MICRO TALES |
Len Kuntz (above) lives on a lake in
rural Washington State with his wife and
son. His fiction appears widely in print
and online at such places as Heavy
Bear, Stacatto Fiction, The New Verse
News and also at lenkuntz.blogspot.com.
rural Washington State with his wife and
son. His fiction appears widely in print
and online at such places as Heavy
Bear, Stacatto Fiction, The New Verse
News and also at lenkuntz.blogspot.com.
| TWISTED The barn slats had seams. I peeked. Light twisted a thousand gnats and chaff. You looked so hungry with him. TUCSON I haven’t eaten since. In Tucson the lawns are simply dirt and pebbles. The beige pall is not a soothing flavor. Neither place nor color can dissuade me from the fact that you’re a damn liar. SKETCH ARTIST She draws hands and fingers and nails, hair follicles and sprouts. Puzzled, the instructor wants to know where’s the rest—the torso and penis. She adds an eyeball, a second one, then crushes them with two fake thumbs. SEALED She coughs up nickels and dimes and sea shell horns. She’s seen how the bulimics do it. She keeps trying until there’s only stale air, tainted breath. No one’s told her that sin is sealed inside the soul. SWAY He wants to breastfeed. There are other ways of living. In some countries the moon is less shy and animals hold sway. He’s taken medication before. There have been mistakes, impairments. But now it’s shelter he needs—to be coddled and told, “Shhh.” |