“Howling”—At night, the woman lies in the dark and listens to the howls echo across the valley. One cries out. The rest answer, ululating, hungry.
The walls of the house are strong, she reminds herself, the fence around the house is strong.
This is not something she used to worry about, long ago, when she was another person and the world was another world. That long ago seems like a story—Once upon a time there was a girl who went to classes and studied equations. She learned how to use spreadsheets. She calculated risk. Read the rest in Pink Panther Magazine, Volume 13, Number 2.
“Unbecoming”—The ten-street town had no bus station, and so Lina dragged her purple-fading-to-gray suitcase toward the curb where the bus stop sign stood. Snow fell from the overcast sky onto the brick buildings and concrete sidewalks. It fell in her hair. People in knit hats with tassels and pompoms walked past without looking at her.
She pulled the suitcase slowly over the litter of ice chunks and grit. She held it steady so it wouldn’t tip. As she stopped under the bus stop sign, she carefully set it from two to four wheels, as if it was full even though it was almost empty. Lina didn’t know how she had lost all her things. Read the rest in Pink Panther Magazine, Volume 13, Number 2.