Three Stories

By - Dec 28, 2020

Her round, though in places pointy, head — which contained her now trembling eyelids and quivering lips — panned the room slowly. She heard a soft rustling, like a dragging blanket.

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excerpt from Alice Knott

By - Dec 15, 2020

At New York’s MoMA, Henri Rousseau’s The Dream (1910) is attacked with a straight razor by a local college professor of physics, who after screaming “I am the fuck of your reality” stabs the image of a full moon in the painting’s upper right-hand corner eleven times before restraint.

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By - Dec 3, 2020

I give my arms a more thorough wash in the farmhouse sink then start to burp the blue drum barrels of sauerkraut.
From the window I see the older child in the yard, slapping his hand on the flat stump of a recently cut birch.

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