Baby in a Bar
“A sign in the window said No Minors after a certain hour.”
I brought my baby into a bar. It was the middle of the day. We’d been walking for hours as if pursued, and it had started to feel as if we wouldn’t stop until we slammed into something.
buh buh buh
How is it going?Good!The baby had a nice long nap
Baby AnimalsBaby Animals
Take a cabIt’s great hereEverybody knows my name
Sara Jaffe is a fiction writer living in Portland, OR. Her novel Dryland was published by Tin House Books in 2015. Her short fiction and criticism have appeared or are upcoming in publications including Catapult, Fence, BOMB, NOON, The Offing, and The Los Angeles Review of Books. She co-edited The Art of Touring (Yeti, 2009), an anthology of writing and visual art by musicians drawing on her experience as guitarist for post-punk band Erase Errata. She is currently working on a collection of short fiction entitled Hurricane Envy.
More in this series
“Yes, there are still whales, there are still haddock, crabs, seals. Their hearts beat, muscle and sinew unaltered by steel scale or steam-powered fins. For now, anyway.”