selected past writing at 42opus


The Mooring Line by ANNA BLACKETT

Hewitt wakes to find his arm asleep beneath his wife's neck. The old patchwork quilt is gone, kicked to the floor during the night and now only the top sheet remains between them and the cold draft from the cracked windowpane. He watches her shoulders rise and fall with each breath—tries to match her rhythm. Before getting up he kisses her back, between her shoulder blades, and she shivers, pulling the sheet to her chin. He slides his arm out from underneath her, sits on the edge of the bed and shakes it to regain feeling. His feet search the cold wood floor for his slippers. She stirs.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

23 March 2010 | fiction, short story


The Paranoid Retired Gentleman and His Library Visit by JIM HEYNEN

To him, the problem with a public library was that it had too much sincerity about it. Everything was so nonprofit and earnest. Even the posters showed a pacifist propriety. He felt judged by the public library.

8 November 2009 | fiction, flash fiction


Cartography by KATRINA ROBERTS

The body was one thing we always had

in common, even when between us

a continent unfolded. Eric says,

"We scattered his ashes beneath the Japanese Maple

here behind the house." No ceremony,

as you wished, but this…

6 December 2009 | poetry


The Animal Husbandman's Letter to His Wife by MELISSA CUNDIEFF-PEXA

I pulled a pocket watch from one of the

bodies tonight. It looks very old, has

diamonds as white as the droppings of an

aspen married in ash to a new earth.

Our sweet extinct are cheering in heaven!

22 July 2010 | poetry



The human tongue, in disbelief, obsesses

at the tender pit of a tooth,

insists on entering the empty room again

and again until it cankers…

27 August 2008 | poetry

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