Tag Archives: short-story

1969.9.9.

Beneath the tall stone embankmentby the elementary school beside my home,the sound of murky water trickling—the black, stagnant waterseeping from every cornerof the city of Present where I live. Deep in the mountain valley,where ancient trees and rocks keep watch,water … Continue reading

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The Day Moon

Winter brushes the fingertipsof the shaman—empty-bodied,visible from all directions—morning and evening. A bird, perched on a dry branch,laughs,its entrails spilling out. Hair, like scattered feathers,drifts towardbuildings stripped bare,unfolding slowly—a voice without accompaniment. The night that had been swept awayreturns to … Continue reading

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