My brother never knew I had it, or for how long, or that I have it still, dull red, brick thick and heavy, on
My dog noses the bookshelf like she’s picking her next read. Eventually she fixates on one, flings it to the ground, paws it. I
I love the word emergency. Its redness, its lack of eventuality, its flash and crime. Its brothers—burn and rope. I love the way humans