Taco Bells I Have Known

I was stoned the summer after high school. We went to Taco Bell every day. I’d been in the system since junior high.

A Redwood or a Promise

We speak of this fantasy when he is not too groggy from the morphine. In these times of clarity, my love for him forms bone and muscle.

Saturday Morning

Later, the girls stand in front of the open refrigerator, slightly feral: slices of cheese torn from plastic, pickles from the jar, a swig of Hershey’s syrup, jelly scooped out with a finger.

Dragonflies

They gorge on mosquitoes and butterflies, a glut that cupcakes and roasted beef cannot satisfy. Mosquitos: a bloody morsel. Butterflies: how thrilling to make a meal of such gentle beauty.

The Children

“Do not forget this,” you’re telling your future self, because you searched every room. The third open door must have been a mistake.

The Pines

At that point, we expected locked doors, staff with keys, and intricate systems of levels and points that determined our value, our movements, our freedoms.

The Onion Van

The Onion Van was parked adjacent to a road leading deep into the forest, quite possibly the very primrose path that carries people to places miles from where anyone can hear them scream.