Studies

By AMELIA GRAY

Slush

Not enough snow to stick, Mother says. A pissing thin layer of the saddest slick. Even the road made visible underneath. Used to be you could die in a winter, wander right off the road and dead in a field before you had your second thought, but these days everyone gets to their destination. Have you ever arrived in a springtime with your entire family intact? A real shame to see, Mother says.

Blankets on Bed

You have your choice of blankets, Dana. I laid them out for you on the bed. Your choice may be determined by your comfort level with our little group. I bought this new red blanket special for your arrival but when I got it home and saw it didn’t match the rest, it kindled a fear in my heart that you might see it as a way to exclude you. It’s such a soft blanket, made for you, made to touch your entire body, but I know how it feels to be excluded and I would never want that for you so I would like to present the other blankets as valid options. Please make your selection by six p.m. for that is when Charles would like to go to bed and he will of course at that point need a blanket. We’re so glad you’re here.

Art on wall

SKIN SUIT JAM BAND RULES

1. NO food or drink

2. rental skin suits must be properly maintained

3. do NOT touch the casio, it belongs there & will break if moved

4. bring your own undergarment (or a rental will be provided)

5. respect others and yourself

6. park across the street at the mcdonalds

 

Amelia Gray is a featured writer at the 2012 Juniper Literary Festival: New Writers | New Writing.

Photos by Emily Hunt | First published in “Studies,” Route 9 Issue 2.

Studies

Related Posts

Tree

May 2022 Poetry Feature

By ELIZABETH METZGER
For now, let us choose not to remember / who said History repeats as Tragedy then Farce, / and who else / repeated such nonsense / with variations because, friends, allow me / to be pedantic, just this moment. History repeats / as Tragedy more than once.

sunset and forest trees

Hummingbird Tantra

CORRIE WILLIAMSON
Red draws their tiny eye, and every hummingbird / feeder you can buy blooms a plastic, stoic / ruby, effigy of flower, tadasana of red. Already / they have eaten me out of sugar, but forgetful today / I’ve left the sliding porch door wide, and on my couch / a cheery wool blanket...

Headshot of J.D.

Side Mirror

J.D. SCRIMGEOUR
You’re floundering in flashes of light and dark, / so after a few minutes you scoot inside / because January’s cold, and ask your wife for help, / embarrassed you can’t do even this simple task. / She peers over her glasses, studies the tape, / then returns it unstuck, separated...