Category Archives: Quenby Larsen
quelle horror! quelle dommage! by Quenby Larsen
He would surely be fired, observed Chef, of Errand Guy #24, George, whose name Mme Stache pronounced in the French way. “Jacques” whose actual name was Jimmy and “Andre,” aka “Andy” had gone out in much the same way. Having … Continue reading
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Skin by Meg Sefton
“This must the least favorite part of your body,” said the manicurist, rubbing a rose scented cream into the woman’s hand. The manicurist’s eyes traveled up to the woman’s neck and rested on her face. “In fact, your whole right … Continue reading
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a mother speaks to a stone by Quenby Larsen
. Hold the heart of stone in your embrace. Spread your wing over the troubled ground. Tip your head to her sleep. She is a dream of prayer. She was my dream. I will with your daughter stay. When you … Continue reading
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shades of a young miss zorita by Quenby Larsen
When you sit on your Mama’s porch with your friend’s eight foot boa constrictor around your neck, think: “Long lines.” You are along the lines with your constrictor. You are the fifty pound smooth skinned muscle sliding along your arms … Continue reading
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