Posted on 21 June 2018
by J.S. Graustein
1 Comment
Today, the mirror stares at you. It stares at your lips, your red lips, your red red lips, your lips, red. Red like a cranberry. Red like the cardinal that perched on your windowsill yesterday, with the cocked head and clipped wing. He peered…
Category: SolsticeSeriesTags: baking, cardinal, Celia Wiseman, cross genre, flash fiction, folded word, grandmother, longing, memory, pie, Poetry, prose poem, red, solstice, SolsticeSeries, story