Heidi Seaborn – Almost Like Dying
Almost Like Dying The sun sets in a particular way in Northern California. As if the fruit from its orchards ripen all at once, skin bursting onto the atmosphere. Tonight is like that—nectarine, apricot and black plum, especially black plum. And in the stillness, there is breath— but even that is slowed. The way my […]
Heidi Seaborn – C Is for Cruelty
C is for Cruelty Almost daily, my sisters and I terrorized our too beautiful baby brother. One summer night, we chased him off a dock. Such a small splash in the darkness, his moonface bobbing. Perhaps that evening was the turning point when we went too far. After, our cruelty to one another reduced to […]
Heidi Seaborn – Burning the Evidence of Our Existence
Burning the Evidence of Our Existence A matchbook lies on the table between us next to the ashtray, dirty with cigarettes. The one we stole from the hotel in Rome, drunk on chianti and moonshine. Drunk on a story we told into extinction. I’m done talking atonally. I’ve emptied my pockets again. What remains lies […]
