Fiction
Call Me Verdean by Avitus B. Carle
I longed to be called Verdean, to find solace beneath the cracked bell in Philadelphia
I longed to be called Verdean, to find solace beneath the cracked bell in Philadelphia
I like to imagine you in the sun, glowing. Your skin, black as night, and teeth porcelain against it. Did someone capture your smile in all its radiance?
Accidentally, I killed a pediatric patient as a hospital nurse.
Every morning, he’d feel as if tiny creatures were wriggling from his cheekbones, his nose scrunching lopsidedly and at random as he blinked himself into consciousness.