Diurnal

Afternoon, late spring. A neighbor’s overgrown garden sits in the shade, chimney covered with a tarp for months, chipped bricks piled at its base. From the weeds a coyote escapes, stepping gingerly between the plants and debris. The animal thin—it moves slowly, pauses to turn and look at us with a sense of disorientation behind its eyes. The sun shines off its pale grey coat as it returns to the shadows.

No. 088

Unsurety

The dial on the air fryer broke, stuck 45 degrees to the left. Loading wheels spun interminably. A twenty dollar sandwich had five ingredients. The rain left pockmarked dirt across the hood of the truck. Gas pedal’s on the right. Faded signs pointed in every direction.

No. 079