Worse Things
The classified ad said only PHONE WORK and a number. “Look,” he said. “It’s not what anybody’d call honest work.”
This morning the neighbor’s gardeners come earlier than usual and drive the homeless girl off her corner with a leaf blower. Once there was a bus stop there, and though the route has been redirected, the sunshade built to protect waiting commuters was left behind.
Dolly
Daddy
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Drie Konings
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Jenny Irish lives in Tempe, Arizona, where she is grateful to serve as the Assistant Director of the Creative Program at Arizona State University (where she has the best students and colleagues). Her work has appeared in Barrow Street, Colorado Review, Epoch, and Ninth Letter. Her collection, Common Ancestor, is forthcoming from Black Lawrence Press.
More in this series
Bartending on a Captainless Ship
Captains are always making you think you’re secure and happy and then bam, you’re capsizing with an iceberg in your rearview mirror.
The Bereavers at the Crying Competition
The MC introduced each contestant, and at the end, said that that year’s grief counselors in black would like to be called the Bereavers. He mispronounced it as the Beliebers, and the audience laughed, because they are American, and have no idea what Bereaver could mean.