What we do not have in our boots, what we have not found in our shoes, not ever, are the scorpions. Nights, Father torments their nest with matches launched lit from the front porch. He sets them to scatter and we get to stomping. The thing to know about our stingers is that only fire will do. Father says: These are fast but not impossible. Father sits watch while the rest of us fleetfoot. Our scorpions, they are fantastic, spinning out from some blistered center. Our heels come crunching and the crawlers bust open, flared and clacking, still smoking—a shade of orange only we in this family have seen. Father says: Hiding is two-sided. He makes even the littlest among us take a good look.
Kimberly King Parsons’s writing has appeared in Time Out New York, elimae, 360 Main Street, The Chapbook Review, The Faster Times, and Columbia: A Journal of Literature and Art. She lives in Queens and is working on a short story collection about liars.
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I just happened across this very nice piece of work. I can clearly visualize the scene...ReplyDelete
It has been quite a while Kimberly, or, I suppose I should say Mrs. Parsons. How are things going for you?
Talk to you later....
My name is Thomas J. Rudd. I'm a pretentious faggot.ReplyDelete
Hello "Anonymous". Shame on you, that's wasn't very nice at all now was it. When you hide in your anonymity and write a childish post like this it only displays that you are either ashamed by what you have written or intimidate by the person it is directed toward. Please allow me to share a little personal insight with you. When people attempt to insult others to elevate their sense of self worth, I believe it's an accurate reflection of their own emotional and intellectual maturity. I also find that they reveal what they most dislike about themselves. I hope things get better for you and you had a very merry Christmas and have a blessed new year. Remember that Jesus Christ is the reason for this season. God bless and take care.ReplyDelete