by Zach Plague
Dusk. The sun dropping below the horizon of her window ledge. A record spinning in lazy loops, tracing out soft trumpets. Lying on the bed, in old pajamas, the reruns and favorites would come. Beer bottles casting sepia shadows on the sidewalk, her brother laughing, running her fingers through her lover's beard as they sat on lawn chairs around a slow-motion bonfire, her wedding on an Icelandic cliff with her train rising in the wind like a plume of smoke, the atmosphere of caves or car graveyards or drained pools or the roofs of very tall buildings. Memories, or dreams.
Zach Plague is a writer and designer living in Chicago, Illinois. He has a really bad memory. His novel "boring boring boring boring boring boring boring" (featherproof books) is due out in August 2008.