I'm trying to decide what to title my new chapbook of short stories that Newlights Press is publishing. Avoiding alliteration might be a good idea; I'm doing too much of that. I'm leaning towards Jolan. It feels good. And people might have to Google it to find out what it means. Or Milking Sickles.
Anyway.
The collection will consist of deleted scenes from Falcons on the Floor - laptop entries written in first-person by Salim, the main character. Some are less than one page, some are a bit longer. Lamination Colony is publishing the first bit sometime this month. Advanced thanks to Michael Kimball for the blurb. Here's a sample (of a shorty):
Khalil’s tracksuit pants and t-shirt hang from a branch like the tree’s trying them on. The roots of the tree want to slip on his repulsive socks. It holds both of his Adedas up, sunshine blazing through the sole. But Khalil doesn’t care what the tree does with his off-brand sneakers.
He swims.
Every time we stop walking he’s in the river.
He was born with gills and his father took engine oil, and hovering over the crib, slicked Khalil’s neck every night with his mechanic hands until baby Khalil learned how to breathe human air. But Khalil never forgot the water or how to swim.
I want to join him.
The half-dressed tree watches with envy.
He swims.
Every time we stop walking he’s in the river.
He was born with gills and his father took engine oil, and hovering over the crib, slicked Khalil’s neck every night with his mechanic hands until baby Khalil learned how to breathe human air. But Khalil never forgot the water or how to swim.
I want to join him.
The half-dressed tree watches with envy.
3 comments:
I like milking sickles. It is weird and doesn't make sense... like Jolan, but I like the sound better. Jolan might have confuse pronouncers "Joe-lawn, Yo-lawn, Joe-lin, etc"
Milking Sickles sounds lewd.
Yeah, you're right.
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