by Centaur Lit | Jul 10, 2023 | Summer 2023
Before Neil asks her to marry him, she rips her horoscope with the astrologer’s prediction into shreds, flings the scraps from the balcony. Before her love wraps her in his arms, she knocks on his door, silver dish in her hands, fragrance of halva—decadent with nuts...
by Centaur Lit | Jul 10, 2023 | Summer 2023
A dead man sent two dozen burgundy roses to his wife on their wedding anniversary. He had been dead for more than three years. He missed her immensely from the grave. He didn’t have an actual heart anymore, no, but that’s when he realized love comes from the bones....
by Centaur Lit | Jul 10, 2023 | Summer 2023
What more could I have asked for or dreamt of—this evening seeing my ankles warm in purple water, the sun on my shoulders like an old bird. Here with you in the lap of the sea. I ask if you’ve imagined drowning—if there’s another world in your head that exists in your...
by Centaur Lit | Jul 10, 2023 | Summer 2023
We kids were drawn to the backs of things. Back of Jack Koo’s shop, wooden crates of rotten bananas, clouds of tiny flies. Back of Solly’s car yards, wrecked parts, oil sumps, then to the backyard of the richest family in the street. We heard music, Frank Sinatra...
by Centaur Lit | Jul 10, 2023 | Summer 2023
If I had paid more attention in Home Economics, I’d have been able to stitch myself up rightly and stop you coming out. I would have absorbed you back into myself, like female elephants do in lean times, in mean times. Like Mammy should have done with me. I did listen...
by Centaur Lit | Jul 10, 2023 | Summer 2023
On the day in sunny September when I read in Lichtenberg, “As the few adepts in such things well know, universal morality is to be found in little everyday penny-events just as much as in great ones,” there’s a sign at the Circle K alerting customers of a nationwide...