Kathleen DeMarco

This time, there are no tears. This time, there is only emptiness and I feel it set in the straight line of my mouth. I am not strong enough for this. I want an earthquake, a hurricane, anything – even a devil, the one with the cloven hoof – Mrs. Leed’s unfortunate 13th child – to rush out and stomp on me, break me into little pieces and hurl me to the stars, let me go back with those people I love. Please.

This time, there are no tears. This time, there is only emptiness and I feel it set in the straight line of my mouth. I am not strong enough for this. I want an earthquake, a hurricane, anything – even a devil, the one with the cloven hoof – Mrs. Leed’s unfortunate 13th child – to rush out and stomp on me, break me into little pieces and hurl me to the stars, let me go back with those people I love. Please.

– Kathleen DeMarco –

Cranberry Queen

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Sharon Guskin

Denise would never get over it. She knew that. Tommy’s bones at the bottom of the well. She and Henry had spent some time with those bones. When the police had finished testing and tagging and photohgraphing them the funeral parlor had given them time before the burial. She’d clutched them to her chest. Run her fingertips along the smooth sockets that had held his shining eyes. There but not there. Some part of her wanted those bones. Wanted to put the femurs under her pillow at night when she went to sleep. To carry his skull around in her purse so she’d be with him always. She understood now how people went crazy and did crazy things.

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