CritiqueCollectors

The creak of the church door was a familiar sound—it was common, normal, entirely expected when one practically lived in the house of God as Father James did. And when the tapping came he saw no reason to turn, no reason to look upon this joiner; after all, he had heard the same many taps from the many heels the many mothers wore when they visited. But the taps did not stop at the first row of the pew. They did not stop at the midway point either, where Mrs. Davis sat, nor did the heels stop their rhythmic tapping when they reached the front. Father James even heard his coworker, Father Anthony, shuffle closer to himself and away from

Cold Moon I leave the realm of sleep to be greeted by the winter cold and my grumbling stomach. It’s been over a week since I last ate anything… and even then it was just some mushrooms that felt as though I’d swallowed a venomous eel.  I rise slowly, shake the snowflakes off of my pelt, savoring the warmth that comes from movement, blood flowing through my veins once more. I can’t make a fire.  Even if I had something more useful than my bulky, clawed hands, I don’t know how to do it.  Servants always made my fires back home. My stomach gurgles and dull pains emanate through my body like an echo inside an em

Dawn breaks through the cracks in my porcelain skin. I have awakened outside of the windowless walls that contain    Your Abuse, tightly packed away in this box home, on the sides, a stamped FRAGILE. Is that what I am now? Filed away into spread sheets, statistics, my name reassigned to a case number while my clothes, my once identity, lie in a box labeled EVIDENCE. No.    I am a phoenix. My porcelain skin will shatter and I will rise from the jagged pieces, wings spanning, feathers a hot fire, eyes a steel gray. I will depart from these boxes fierce, reborn, my talons clutching a piece of paper titled LADY LAZARUS.

  I'm a little early for the appointment. I'm supposed to meet someone after they finish with their engagement. The problem with arriving early is that some people don't take it well; and I don't like being hasty. Sometimes, I'd rather not have the meeting. While I wait, the city moves around me. People pass me as they briskly walk to their destinations. They hardly pay any mind to their path; instead they are mesmerized by the cell phones and devices they carry. Some don't even notice when they nearly graze me. Anything could happen, and everyone is so hyper-focused on their own self, that they wouldn't notice.  Traffic clogs the streets