Cecilia Kennedy

Search Party

The sun stings the streets blocked off for the festival. I feel the soles of my shoes sticking slightly to the asphalt, melting on impact. No threat of rain hangs in the air. I’m out in the open, with no hope of shade, and nighttime is a long way off. My family’s in the balcony …

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Devil’s Urn

On paths lined with last fall’s brittle leaves, we walk to the edge of our property where we first kissed: under the tall oak, near the creek. We clear the leaves and sit on the grass that pokes through. Just before us, mushroom-flesh charred cups, turned upright, push their stems through a decaying limb. The …

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