by Centaur Lit | Apr 28, 2025 | Spring 2025
Your saviors have landed, blue eyes bright with compassion and rapacity. Your saviors know all about your country’s bittersweet melisma, three thousand year blood feuds, and rickety cotton-looms: They were briefed on the flight over. All about your country, including...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 28, 2025 | Spring 2025
When I come home, I do not come home. I do not step over the worn threshold of our side door, the sizzling sound of oil and my mother’s voice soaring as I walk across laminate tiles placed slightly askew, with years of dirt caked by my mother’s busy feet pacing the...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 28, 2025 | Spring 2025
My neighbor’s dog is lost. I’ve had a lost dog once, or maybe even twice, and three or four times. Growing up on a farm, my family had outside dogs. They weren’t allowed in the house. The only leashes my family owned were the ones attached to halters to show cows and...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 28, 2025 | Spring 2025
Every day, I wait at the bus stop for Kiara to hop off. On some days, Sandy, the driver, throws me a treat from the goodies bag stashed in the cup holder. Today, it’s a fortune cookie. I remember air-kissing my child as she sat in her usual seat—eighth from the front,...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 28, 2025 | Spring 2025
He flips a switch and the projector flickers, scarred film twitching on the wall, and she appears, untouchable, a wicked smile scythed across her face, then he drops the needle, and the dark record spins. A voice like old leather sings about those who never returned...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 28, 2025 | Spring 2025
On four limbs you’ll run to me, with topaz eyes and tentacle curls, gloriously alive. I’ll know you even with horns pointing like thumbs. Remember reading about the Goat Boy, recovered in the Andes? Researchers renamed him “Daniel,” flew him to Kansas City, studied...