Without certain women in my life I wouldn’t be where I am today. I can’t tell you how honored I am to be a apart of this wonderful project. Old, young, skinny, large, beautiful, ugly, angelic, demonic women are studied with a creative eye in this anthology written exclusively from the male perspective on the finer sex.
Excerpt from “The Trembled Evening” by Jay Maul
The bright grayness is almost strange, as if the sun has melted and become particles of soft woolen light floating around her in the mist that turns everyone into wet-haired ghosts.
Her favorite is the Gemini tree. It is nothing special, nor is the house it guards, but she loves the vision of twin trunks sprouting from one under-earth acorn for centuries more. She looks up at the leaning twins, seemingly wanting to embrace her like a tall, caulicle mother. She envisions their death: one of them gets sick and in the storm-night’s violence the weight of its dying body brings them both down.
Near the end of the walk is the silence park. It’s a tiny park, tucked between a cul-de-sac and a parking lot. She seeks sanctuary in this sacrosanct lot, but a man who lurks beyond the wall that separates her stronger self from the shell that once was shocks her with his presence.
He’s come to ask for forgiveness for leaving her with their dead child.
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