by Centaur Lit | Apr 29, 2024 | Spring 2024
When we would put bits of Scotch tape over the notches to record over Target bought cassettes we didn’t listen to anymore—pressing PLAY and REC at the same time on the boombox to listen to the soporific static melodies before the music soaked our skin—volume up,...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 29, 2024 | Spring 2024
We bought two lottery tickets and didn’t scratch them. It was a game. Like: do yours first. No, you, the other said. A game we played by not playing. I’m fine with wasting money on things, I told you, thinking you weren’t. You put up a shrug to cover your laugh and...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 29, 2024 | Spring 2024
On the day of my mother’s funeral, we encounter a swarm of drones. We look up, not down. The dystopian creatures are hovering. Drones are good, you say. They count sandhill cranes, track storms. They can even deliver pizza.Casket. Inside: a flower-print...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 29, 2024 | Spring 2024
The baker’s wife came running, her big breasts swinging like cabbages in a sack, and we laughed until we heard her shout, They’re killing everybody, then we ran, too young for anything on us to swing, dust puffing up from the road, far-off sun shining weak and pale...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 29, 2024 | Spring 2024
The dark pull of the deep, the rhythmic plash of paddle. A choir of widows and daughters around the perimeter blend into the conifers in their kerchiefs and midnight skirts. Soon, it will begin. Every December, their dirge, rising over the black waters, the...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 29, 2024 | Spring 2024
Bring a large crate of bottled water, a hand sanitizer, and toilet tissue rolls. Fold your hands in Namaste only when you come in or are leaving. Convert the locals with your sunscreen and lip balm, your style of adjusting the shades on your eyes, the way you...