
PORCELAIN by Nicholas Claro
The couch is more of a loveseat. It hardly seats the two of us. On it is the pillow and blanket I’ve been using. This is the longest conversation we’ve had in over a week.
Nicholas Claro is an MFA candidate in fiction at WSU and reads fiction for Nimrod International Journal. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Pithead Chapel, Bending Genres, Heavy Feather Review, Fictive Dream, X-R-A-Y, Necessary Fiction, and others. He lives in Wichita, Kansas.
The couch is more of a loveseat. It hardly seats the two of us. On it is the pillow and blanket I’ve been using. This is the longest conversation we’ve had in over a week.
I got a call from a friend of a friend back home in Arkansas while waiting in line at the CVS, telling me our friend was in hospice.
Like everyone else, when I see the plane, I get up from the table to get a better look. I’m not exactly sure at what speed planes travel, but I know a plane must travel faster when it’s diving.