by Lorette C. Luzajic

Penitence, patience, prayer, these things are empty around you. You beg for them but can’t believe. Well, I was gone, too, for a long, long time, and I’m still not sure where to kneel. Say your grace the best way you know how, and know it is enough. There is a seat for you at the table, and a blessing in the cellar of salt. Mine was the small silver spoon; it flickered in flames from the candle, like somebody praying for me.


Lorette C. Luzajic is an artist, writer, and editor living in Toronto, Canada. Her prose poems and flash fiction have been widely published in journals and anthologies. She is the founder and editor of The Ekphrastic Review.