Harmless Are the Harvestmen We Don’t Let In
Who is there? I called when a spell of quiet passed, though I already had my guess, an automated sighting notice having gone out last week.
The harvestmen arrived during the dark weather season, just days after a series of soot storms blackened our yards and windows. This was an ugly time of year—the sun bled of its coppered gold, the sky scorched like a beaker left to flame. When the harvestmen knocked, I was pressing my face deep into the couch while a harmonica buzzed through the radio. I like the way old country songs can fill a room, and how a pillow can stifle breathing without stopping it completely.
Scott Broker is a queer writer currently based in Columbus, Ohio. A Lambda Fellow, his work has been a finalist for the Iowa Review Fiction Prize, an Honorable Mention in Glimmer Train's "Fiction Open" Contest, and a nominee for two Pushcart Prizes. His stories and essays have appeared or are forthcoming in Hobart, Passages North, DIAGRAM, and The Rumpus, among others. He can be found at www.scottjbroker.com.
Enter your email address to receive notifications for author Scott Broker
You have been added to the notification list for author Scott Broker