The short fiction of j hardy carroll
I. now it’s a barn, a ballroom really if I close an eye II. the posts wait in shafts of light swirling with dust III. once she pushed me up against the wall entirely IV. on the phone our faces hang, talking mouths open V. the shadow of me pushes hard against my shoes no…
I couldn’t sleep, it bothered me so much. Almost none of it was my fault, but still. Guilt. I checked my watch. Flying international, you always have to be at least two hours early. I wondered if this hotel had a phonebook. I checked the nightstand and there it was, right there with a Gideon…