Author name: SmithSean

The sun has set, and trees, like statues, meditate. The wheat has all been cut.                                                                         Federico Garcia Lorca, The Sun has Set   The veranda sang a lonely song in the dark. Its voice was full of damp and rust. Accompanying its lonely cries, a chorus of dormant bedroom doors, rattling in the breeze. …

The Sun has Set Read More »

By Sean Smith “Please sign to confirm you are dead. Here and here.”   I pressed my bloodied thumb onto a thin sheet. With it, the last product of me was stamped onto an empty form. The last version of me, imprinted on anything, anywhere, ever again. I screamed.   The car alarm cried, and …

Animam Agere, and Other Disappointments Read More »