As from a Quiver of Arrows by Carl Phillips
I hear my father crying from the other room. I thought I knew how to do this, having been here before. Damn it. As from a Quiver of Arrows Carl Phillips What do we do with the body, do we burn it, do we
Leda, After the Swan by Carl Phillips
You love to write about the body, says my friend. You might like to give nature a try. I'm afraid I'm not good at it, dear. There's just something so