Fiction

The Women Who Sleep With Their Eyes Open

A short story about pallbearers, gas, fire, and meat

Moody shot of a person with long hair and a tear rolling down their cheek. Their eyes are out of frame.
Photo: yamasan via Adobe Stock

The grass, it knows everything. Back then we were paranoid, convinced that our alarm clocks came equipped with recording devices. We feared the gas worming its way through the telephone lines. Can you smell it? I can smell it. How could you not? Smell it. Even the…