graphics mode c r o s s X c o n n e c t previous | next

| main page
| issue contents
| contributors
| e-mail us
   p a s s e n g e r,    s l e e p

--- A M Y   H O L M A N

Attention: sleep, passenger. Small girl, back seat,
         I'd figure the sleeping form at the sound of fights.

You're not asleep, she's not asleep, John said, left alone in an air of ruin. But they'd quiet him and

themselves, in deference or by benefit, slipping me the reins. Who is the guilty one? He who drove the

miscarriage, or he who fed the horses? Who is more lonely? The soul who ghosts the ruin, or the architect

of the brand new house? Kill her, kill that girl, small John said to Mom before sleep, for I am the only one.

© crossconnect 1995-2000 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania's kelly writers house |