Noah and Eve by Tasha Cotter Eve walks up, passing the dead rose bushes and goes into the house. Fast and loud rap music is coming from his bedroom. She tries to lovingly nudge the border terrier, Diesel, out of the way and goes in. “Noah, you awake?” She walks over and reaches over to find a way to turn the volume off on the clock radio. Noah utters something that doesn’t sound like language. He kicks the sheet off of himself and turns toward her, toward his walk-in closet that has one door off the hinge, a snow drift of cargo shorts lay collapsed by a broken lamp in the corner. She looks at all this and then back to Noah. “Noah.” Noah’s eyes flicker and close again. Eve walks into the kitchen to check on the pet food bowls. Sometimes there is food out for the dog and cat.
The Winter Issue of Black Fox Literary Magazine featuring new fiction, poetry, non-fiction and photography.