Eli Press Fiction Number 1


How'd she turn the engine over? Set aside the gun? She couldn't have. In her retreated mind, in this present, all she recallls is her head aching a starry rhythm. Remembers she flattened the gas pedal, peeled away. Burning oil, clumps of mudded rock pinging the truck's chassis. Windows down. Wind clearing her eyes. Wind fanning tears across her dry cheeks as washborads rattled her chest, jangling like her heart might unfix, fall loose--wanting madly to let it, ditch the worthless organ in the dust because up to then she didn't know she had it.



negative spaces: stories by nate liederbach

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