Adam Moorad is a writer, salesman, and mountaineer. He is the author of four chapbooks and a novella. He lives in Brooklyn. Visit him here.
excerpt from the story
He looked lame where she left him, quavering beside a koi pond in an empty parking lot of a Japanese restaurant. It was 12 o’clock. The blacktop burned lava hot. He dipped his hand in the pond and tried to drink but the heat evaporated every drop before he could sip. He licked the moisture along his life line and swallowed a sob. A small cyst budded in the center of his palm. He licked it again and the bump sprouted a head and then a tail and then four legs. It crawled up his arm, perched on his shoulder, and unleashed a stone-aged screech. He rose. Buckled his belt. Walked towards the bus stop, an unfounded belief about him.