Review by Donna Vorreyer Tara Skurtu’s The Amoeba Game is a collection about moments and memory and how they collide, mutate and transform. An
There is a certain kind of forgiveness between mothers and daughters that fathers cannot understand. A certain kind of blue glass shard. A bitter
I have given my mother’s body into others’ hands; have trusted her unsteady gait, her porous bones, her sleepless nights and the music she
It’s falling heavily now, as they said it would, in splashing thuds against the northern windows, brutally, as if it would break and enter.