He called himself an entrepreneur. It was our first date. After dinner, he invited me back to his place to see his extensive collection of celebrity souls. He had them arranged on shelves in alphabetical order. From Anna Akhmatova to Garo Yepremian. “Did I say souls?” he said. “Of course, I meant wines.” He shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly. I was a priestess in those days. I cast spells on my enemies. They discovered small lumps in their breasts when they showered; woke up hysterically blind. Did I say “priestess”? I meant to say physical therapist. I never willfully hurt a soul in my life. Outside, down in the alley, the boys are playing stickball. Each one of them has a stick. There is no ball in sight. Did I say “stickball”? They are hacking each other to death with machetes.
Meeah Williams’s work has appeared in Otoliths, Phantom Drift, Uut, The Conium Review, Per Contra, Petrichor Review, Stone Highway Review, Dirty Chai, Shuf, *82 Review, Skin to Skin, Wilde, The Milo Review, Meat for Tea, Angry Old Man & others. She lives in Seattle & tweets here.