Stolen, Jarred, and Tossed By Nick Sanford On October 31st, Lily Florence stole the name of the boy whoâ€™d refused to kiss her on the lips. She stored it in a jam jar; she screwed the lid shut tight. It was such a fancy name--one she thought might sparkle and glow, perhaps even sing--but as she stared into the glass jar, the blandness of the thing inside left her eyeballs uninterested and her curious
unimpressed with the entire situation. Where is the boy? Why isnâ€™t he coming for his name? She observed it, that shapeless thing pretending to be better than air, for a moment longer. And quicker than a bee decides to sting, Lily shoved the jar into her pink Cinderella lunch box, smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt, and stormed home. The birds took great care not to fly too close to her path. Squirrels stopped munching on their acorns. Even the ants
The Winter Issue of Black Fox Literary Magazine featuring new fiction, poetry, non-fiction and photography.