Something Went Wrong
I talked to six squares today like most other days, guillotine edges slicing pieces of people in perfect lines, framing heads and half collarbones. I’m a square too, and it’s better this way: no offensive smells, no exhausting treks. I sit flat-imaged, touch-up flattered, untouched. I smile at the squares and the squares smile back, and it’s wonderful, they said, so it must be wonderful, this calm, this chasm, this being without being, this ultimate safety except for this: when a part of my brain still archaic, unlearning, fires through the weeds of an abandoned pathway, and I reach for the squares with warm hands gliding, soaring like birds to lit windows at night until I feel – Error Message: Something Went Wrong. But thankfully it’s easy to troubleshoot these days, to feign mental reset in three easy steps: pull my hands back, set them neatly out of frame, fold the cold over memories of stars.
About the Author
Andrea Lynn Koohi is a writer from Toronto, Canada. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in a variety of journals, including Passages North, Bending Genres, The New Quarterly, Lost Balloon, Pithead Chapel, filling Station, The Maine Review, and Whale Road Review. Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net and was selected for inclusion in Best Microfiction 2022.
About the artist
Mary Amato is a multidisciplinary teaching artist and the co-founder of Firefly Shadow Theater, a company that explores storytelling with cut paper, light, and the human body. She teaches art, music, and creative writing. www.thrumsociety.com.