Fiction | Short Story


We wanted to embellish her legend, but now we were only the witnesses of her want.

She told everyone she was a god, but she was just alone.

Lin Ayi, Ama, if you really are the god who pried open the lid of the sky and lifted us out, if you really hunted the suns that tried to sear us on both sides, plotting against the pink inside our bodies, then touch us just once, touch us anywhere, so that we may know only a fraction of all fears, so that we may outlive the teeth of others, so that we will be the last people alive when the warrior aims at the sky and the world unwraps its eyes.

turn-your-spine-into-a-slingshot-and-catapult-you-out-of-your-own-body kind, but, like, the kind that makes you shit out your kidneys. Except that somehow she always knew our names and could summon us with them.

Maybe she’s finally retiring

DatelineThat’s a fast death

What will you become, now that I have gifted you your end?