The werewolf has been scheduling men from the app back-to-back every night—even on the days leading up to the full moon, though she knows she shouldn’t.
A man was playing guitar in the park. The sky was purple when I walked home from the restaurant.
A little boy at my table was cryingbut I brought him scrambled eggs and he stopped.
Abigail Oswald is a writer whose work predominantly examines themes of celebrity, crime, and girlhood. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in journals such as Wigleaf, Matchbook, Fractured Lit, Hobart, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, DIAGRAM, and Split Lip, and her short fiction was selected for Best Microfiction 2021. She holds an MFA from Sarah Lawrence College and currently resides in Connecticut. Find her online at abigailwashere.com.
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When you disappeared, three nights ago, I told them you were up north, visiting your mother. Why should I tell them different?