We stepped outside the greenhouse and the lights went cold. He reached out; his palm froze against Saturn’s gelatinous ring and pulled away from his wrist like wet paper. I felt the romance leak out of our suicide as I saw the black hole. I punched him in the face.
Published by jessicahalseywrites
Jessica Halsey was born in Arkansas and has lived in Panama and the UK. She earned an MFA in Creative Writing from Goddard College and a BA in Sociology from Randolph-Macon Woman's College. She currently lives in the marshlands of the American South writing poetry and odd fiction. View all posts by jessicahalseywrites