“Little chickens, with eyes of real Baltic amber. You made them, thread by thread, stitch by stitch, and now they rustle bloodthirsty. Now they want for dreams. Yours are absent whenever you wake, a murky cavity in your memory. They diagonal golden beaks toward your scars, try to pluck them up like earthworms. They whisper to […]
Sheitel, published this month at Bartleby Snopes, is in the running for June Story of the Month. The winning piece will be included in the semi-annual print/PDF publication. You can read my work, along with the other eligible stories, and vote for your favorite (ahem) at this link.
“Crawl into the brackish mud and let your hands be pale and shatterproof crocodile jaws. Snatch him by the ankles and smother him under the violence of your pendulous flesh. Rip your skirts and moan. Moan like a museum full of moldy bones.” Read more: Mothering
“Anna Lea Jancewicz’s “The Pupil of an Eye” is the piece that stuck with me the most…” Read more here.
“Our sages say that Shabbos exists outside of time, that each day of rest and prayer and peace is but a taste of the World to Come. The Olam haBa is an infinite progression of Shabboses strung together, days perfectly stitched, whole and holy, into one splendid garment. From darkness to darkness like womb to […]
“A needle could go in, a hatpin with a pearl bead, a stray earring lost in the bedsheets. Or a monster could come out, like Athena blasting forth from the skull of Zeus, fully formed and ripe for war. Her rind of armor splits, juice and pulp gush…” Read more: The Pupil of an Eye
“My bare legs warble summerly songs. Songs we knew by heart in forbidden orange groves, beneath graffitied underpasses. Submerged, they sound like your deaf sister on a hot vinyl car seat…” Read more: Pie.
Anna Lea Jancewicz 