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by Eli Skipp

Elke smells the coyotes and is reminded of a place not
terrifically unlike the desert where she hunkers now,
but with more Joshua trees and more cows. The ranchers
have no gates, and the cows roam freely, and are often
butchered where they stand, so that piles of bones are
strewn about every once in a while.

She knew two brothers, back when she knew also that
area of the desert and when she also (thought she) knew
that her heart was made of fire. They lived out there
with busy families and fake adobe homes, and in the
summertimes the three of them would petulantly wander
and sometimes the brothers would fight each other with
the bones of the cattle.

Their playing ended the day a brother hit the other in
the head with one giant femur and they all three discovered
that the hearts of bones are made of tornadoes of glistening
black flies.


Posted on 11/26/2013
Copyright © 2022 Eli Skipp

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