Oblivion recorded, she made her way back. The road: pocked. Her eyes: vacant. En route, she bought, from a boy in rags, a box. In it, she put all she’d seen, her dust, her dreams, jealousies of all kinds, gone ambitions and the small bits of hope she had left.
Jefferson Navicky's work has appeared in Birkensnake, Smokelong Quarterly, Storm Cellar, Horse Less Press and The Café Review. He is the archivist for the Maine Women Writers Collection, teaches English at Southern Maine Community College, and lives in Freeport with his wife. He drinks a lot of green tea, buddy.