he had legs that went all the way up, suit jacket and joggers. when he walked into my office i could smell the indolence on his wrists. ten past nine he goes to bed, smokes for the first time, and coughs magnanimously. he sleeps stiff, does not curl into my side, doesn’t push me out come morning. every third day his nose blooms crimson. when i tell him i wrote this, he says it’s the hottest thing about me, my words, and i try not to take offense.
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Shelby Rice is in repose. Their work can be found in Rejection Letters, HAD, American Literary Review, Okay Donkey, and more. Originally from Dayton, Ohio and legally blind (two things unrelated, they think), they are awaiting excommunication for suggesting sheep also go to heaven. Follow them on twitter at @orcmischief.
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image: MM Kaufman
Rejection Letters 