A hawk flew over the Fiero today. I didn't know it was there above me until it cut out the sun. Its body was on me, swooping. There we were. I took the corner at 55. And then it was gone. Still, until that shiver, until I smashed the brake, there we were.
But, you know, it’s been a long time. I live in the country now.
Some of Stacy Muszynski's recent fiction appears at elimae and Opium Magazine. She contributes to The Rumpus, Identity Theory, and other excellent online journals. She is web editor of American Short Fiction.