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M. Wyrebek

Author

A Reminder

In the never—sleep of dying I imagine death a needle threading itself in and out of the seam between land and sky that is one moment seen on the horizon—concrete as a tree or a boulder—and then is gone. It is that fast, that nondescript. You co [...]

Red Tee Shirt

After three hours my sister's arm cramped and I took over applying pressure to my open incision. Four johnnies later, still on my side and hemorrhaging in the emergency room, I thought of that single sparkler spitting blood, an artery nicked by a kni [...]

Recovery

Tonight I walk home through the park along a gravel path, stopping to sit under a lamp that casts its net of light over a cement bench. I rest, spreading my limbs across cement that releases its hoarded cool to me, and my pain uncoils. I absorb the n [...]