The top 10 lies authors tell themselves
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It’s the school’s loss, not Emma’s
by Jennifer Gennari
I want to be president / she says unprompted. / Her unfinished writing task / lies on the table between us.
by Karen Paul Holmes
When fifteen hours of Wagner’s Ring draws to a close, please Siegfried, don’t take the potion making you forget Brünnhilde.
by Michael Mark
My father puts the milk carton / on the kitchen table. Declares, She bought it—before.
by Rebecca Foust
If Pastor Dale’s deer-stand was built as a place from which to squeeze a hair trigger, it also ladled up a grand view of the valley below, thick with hickory, sycamore, and elm.
Freddy Krueger is Not Real: the Dream of a Burn Survivor
by Dina Peone
One night in my mid-teens, I was under the covers in my sister’s bedroom, deep asleep, while flames spread from a nearby candle.
by Jen Bergmark
Technically, you needed only one eye to take a photo, but you needed the other to see.
Across the Street
by Lee Martin
Over the next few weeks, a series of strange and unsettling incidents occurred. On more than one night, Glory was jarred from sleep by angry shouts coming from across the street.
Some Things Are Decided Before You Are Born
by Marissa Glover
Doctors cannot tell you when you’re born / how many pitches your arm contains.
by Lois P. Jones
In your next life you will be / birthed in needles / of hoarfrost, your eyes still / in the blue gauze between
The Mourner’s Song
by Roy White
You can die in January if you want, / and lots of people do, but this far north, / nobody gets into the ground till spring.