by JL Jacobs | Dec 20, 2019 | Short Fiction
The City Song of Lucy Brown Black tires rolling. Bus almost empty. Nobody much to mind my singing – just singing a little song. Singing a little steam song about sweet fish, white rice, Marcene’s pineapple sauce. Just singing my song – don’t pay any mind,...
by JL Jacobs | Oct 7, 2019 | Short Fiction
So Good, All of You –Like the dirt around me, we love you. McBride/Thikbot You always remind me, plurally, of music. I hear. However. Cannot express. And of. A. Beautiful sadness. Some odd error of dusk. That is. The same. To me. Like. An assistant. Of Sorts....
by JL Jacobs | Sep 30, 2019 | Short Fiction
Moonlight at Saint Helena Park There is a big moon tonight and I have no rest. They sleep below gathered coats and I sit and watch and wait. And I wish it were dark and black and blind and I could not see; and I’d imagine another place, another me. ‘Would you have the...
by JL Jacobs | Sep 27, 2019 | Short Fiction
CRISPR-Cas9 “We’re such a primitive species, really. Aren’t we?” he said, licking his underarm hair. It was long and silky and red. “I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, distracted. She was depressing each spot on the baby with her thumb. Last month, the...
by JL Jacobs | Sep 18, 2019 | Short Fiction
In-Flight Safety In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen and welcome aboard Flight #777, non-stop service from Cairo to Jerusalem. This is your Father speaking. I’d like to extend a special welcome to our Frequent Prayer members and Saint Class...
by JL Jacobs | Sep 16, 2019 | Short Fiction
Something Larger, Something Whole The wife prepared for their visit by deep-cleaning the rug: It was a wedding present symbolizing fortune and happiness. Wrapped and sealed in a black tarp, the rug made its arrival into the home of the young couple, where it was...
