Fiction
Cross On the Highway by Anthony D’Aries
For the same reasons, I prefer the tree to the gravestone: No pretense.
For the same reasons, I prefer the tree to the gravestone: No pretense.
I’m burrowed into the wormwood of my disgusting ennui, and all I’m getting is this stupid tee shirt.
But, really, what I am afraid of is my body unattended, my body at mercy to someone else.
It was a pleasure and a joy to select images from my collection and pair them together with the poetry, flash, and short fiction pieces published in this issue of Five South.