Here is a fact: at sixteen, I watched my father take our pictures off the walls and clothes from their drawers as he packed up my brother and sister and took them away from our home in Jamaica.
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That time my dad took me camping by the Eel River at the Fortuna KOA. As we lay under the stars with the fire dying, he told me people eat spiders in their sleep—hundreds in a lifetime.
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Minutes after my feet touched moon dust, your voice creaked in the video message.
“The virus wins,” you chuckled in that half-slanted way you did when nothing was funny. Jaundice yellow laced its way across your cheeks.
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After the weather turned, so did we. For many, the end of fog led to the end of patience. Though we’d heard the cool grey city might become sun-bleached as Seville by the end of the century, someday had arrived sooner than anyone predicted.
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It’s very late, the policeman insists, for a woman and a girl. His flashlight drills into our car.
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Previous Sightings:
12 July 2022, Miracle Beach
Hugo Garcia went to Miracle Beach early in the morning. He wanted to beat the crowds. As he
bent to examine a dead crab, he heard a splash
You do not carry the dead through the front door of a house. Or else, more bodies will follow. So the bricklayers are here, sitting on the raised flower beds my mother painstakingly tends every morning.
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June, always rain. Always ants after it rains. Always beetles smacking against the window and stink bugs polluting the air no matter the weather.
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The house is yellow but used to be green. You can see the remnants of green when you walk up the porch steps and put your key in the lock, but of course you don’t need a key because you never lock it, none of you do,
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