run
the sky’s opening up and what do we do but stare and wait for the messenger to give us a sign, a hope, a dream, to hold onto in this life until we reach the next: lie to me, she prayed, prostrated and hung by a rope, knees dangling from a rustily lit christmas tree. the children dance around him, we sing campfire songs and we roast marshmallows. they grab us by the scruff and our head snaps forgetting our troubles. a wag of the tail and we’re gone, the wizard welcoming us backstage.
let’s get fries, she says to me, as we sit at the bar, waiting for the spider to walk over.
