More in this series
Eyes in the Wings
The neighbors wanted the bird out. “Do something,” they said. It was all in the eyes, wide and accusatory and wild.
Why don’t you talk to us? Trust us?
The bird
“It’s a story, you know. Their feathers are the lookout.”
Carlos had been diligent with collecting and throwing out the feathers strewn on the lawn every morning before leaving for work, but now they were in his home. They really did look like eyes, great ancient ones, their gaze following Carlos where he dwelled, and the peculiarity that comes with being watched in the space he created, the space that was Angel’s and his, too.
oohaah
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Christopher R. Alonso was born and raised in Miami, FL. He has worked as an indie bookseller and is a graduate of the NEOMFA program. His work has appeared in Strange Horizons, Fireside Fiction, and The Miami Rail. His writing has received support from Juniper Summer Writing Institute, the Miami Writers Institute, and Tin House's summer workshop. He is currently a high school teacher and at work on a novel.
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More in this series
Sister Moon
“Maria felt that everything had slowed down and she could finally breathe again. Until the night the moon disappeared.”
Living with the Dead in Placentia, CA
Oftentimes, the dead leave town. Olga thinks the dead leave because they find there is no place for them.
Not Kinky
The audience Q and A begins, and someone asks about the relationship between kink and queerness.