by Alex Keegan
93 words
Today, as we flew kites, as we ate ice-cream, a boy fell from the sky. A ploughman ignored the crashing plane, the boy, falling.
I thought, God, let the boy fly. I want more than I have ever asked, I know, but at any moment things will strike the ground. It will be horrible. Is this so much to ask, God, that a boy can fly? I am only suggesting, this, but let the boy live, let him become a man; allow him to smell a woman’s hair, to taste her skin.
Alex Keegan is widely published in print and on-line including Atlantic Monthly Unbound, Mississippi Review, Eclectica and Archipelago. He runs an on-line writing group called Boot Camp Keegan. In December 2008 a collection of his prize-winning stories was published by SALT Publishing, Cambridge, England.
Showing posts with label Alex Keegan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alex Keegan. Show all posts
3.16.2009
3.03.2009
The Penis Has a Muscle
By Alex Keegan
29 words
It is a mistake to think the penis has no muscle or a brain. It wasn’t working out. You stopped loving me, and my penis knew, before I did.
Alex Keegan is widely published in print and on-line including Atlantic Monthly Unbound, Mississippi Review, Eclectica and Archipelago. He runs an on-line writing group called Boot Camp Keegan. In December 2008 a collection of his prize-winning stories is published by SALT Publishing, Cambridge, England.
29 words
It is a mistake to think the penis has no muscle or a brain. It wasn’t working out. You stopped loving me, and my penis knew, before I did.
Alex Keegan is widely published in print and on-line including Atlantic Monthly Unbound, Mississippi Review, Eclectica and Archipelago. He runs an on-line writing group called Boot Camp Keegan. In December 2008 a collection of his prize-winning stories is published by SALT Publishing, Cambridge, England.
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