ISSUE 1 · FALL 2008



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Copyright © 2009

Carol Dorf

Horizon

CAROL DORF



At the event horizon, your head itches. An exam proves nothing, though the doctor keeps poking her wand through the roots. In the corner, a lizard basks in a sliver of sun, while a puddle of turbid milk oozes down the slope. You could vanish in a quip, or sling a final zinger as you slam the door like a teenager. Instead you persist with awl, needle and thread, trying to unite the scraps you’ve been assigned into a quilt for the new baby.